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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958831">A Truth Stranger Than Fiction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmithraven/pseuds/wordsmithraven'>wordsmithraven</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Spoilers, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Coda, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 07 Spoilers, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:07:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24958831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmithraven/pseuds/wordsmithraven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel Sousa was having the worst day of his life...and he’d lived through a war. Service had always been something he’d understood. Honor. Sacrifice. Duty. He’d just never thought his journey would mean leaving everything he loved behind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie &amp; Daniel Sousa, Daniel Sousa &amp; Jemma Simmons, Melinda May &amp; Daniel Sousa, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>397</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel could barely feel the rumble of the impossible plane as it flew through the air. They were on their way to New York City from where’d they’d appeared over Lake Ontario in 1973. The flight was much different from the bone shaking rattle of a C-47. The longer he traveled on the so-called “Zephyr,” the more he missed those cacophonous death traps from the War. It wasn’t right for a man to be 20,000 feet in the sky, yet feel like his feet were still planted on the ground. He wanted flying on the Zephyr to feel as topsy-turvy as his thoughts but there was nothing. There was only the low hum of the great, big rocket plane punctuated by the murmuring voices of its crew from another room.</p><p>People from a different time, more like a whole other <em> world </em>. He’d acted like it didn’t affect him in front of Coulson but the truth was he felt completely out of his depth. Every bit of his life was gone in the blink of an eye. Somehow he was meant to trust that everything these supposed future agents told him was true. That destiny had no plans of letting him leave that hotel alive and the only way to save him was to pluck him out of time. </p><p>Daniel gritted his teeth, eyes locked on a porthole across from him. Part of their story was true. Daniel couldn’t deny the evidence of his own eyes. Their planes, their weapons, their tech, the way they talked. He wasn’t a fool. They were definitely not from around here...around there in the 50s. </p><p>But how could he be sure they really were the good guys?</p><p>They’d seemed like good people but they’d also infiltrated his base under false pretenses. His contact had died, plus at least two others. Then they’d invited themselves onto his top secret mission for Stark, claiming his own boss was Hydra. Next thing he knew, they’d shot him and he’d woken up a dead man. All he had was their word that this was the right path. He was taking a lot on faith and he wasn’t particularly religious.</p><p>The only thing that was helping him keep his wits was that he couldn’t find an angle. If they had been secretly Hydra or some other malevolent force, there was no upside that he could see to fabricating this elaborate story in order to take him with them. Better to let him die in history. </p><p>It was a narrow ledge to cling to but he was holding onto it with both hands. He had no choice but to do so. There was no going back, it seemed. Everything in his life, everyone he’d known, everything he’d built over nearly two decades of struggle...it was all gone now. </p><p>All he could do was keep trying to make the sacrifice worth it. Whatever that meant.</p><p>“How’re you feeling?”</p><p>Daniel startled in his jump seat--<em> At least they still have jump seats. </em> --and squeezed the brass handle of his cane tight in a shaking fist. When he looked to his left, he saw the fake C.I.A. agent... <em> Johnson </em> standing in a hatch with a pair of blue teacups in her hands.</p><p>He skipped right over Johnson’s question, not ready to deal with that, and nodded at her drinks. “I see SHIELD is still marking everything in sight. Not much has changed there.”</p><p>A silver logo was stamped on the side of the cups, updated far beyond the one he knew yet still deeply familiar.</p><p>Johnson flashed a quick smile and raised one of the drinks in acknowledgement. “The one constant of the universe: inexplicable SHIELD branding.” </p><p>Johnson’s heels thudded on metal as she walked closer and offered up one of the cups. Steam rose from it and Daniel realized from the smell that it was tea. His hand squeezed on his cane once more before he gave in, leaned it against his seat, and took her offering. The liquid sloshed a little from the shaking so he steadied it with his other hand. Johnson lowered a jump seat next to him and sat down with her own.</p><p>“Simmons cleared out a bunk for you in the crew rest,” she continued, smiling. “There’s some branded tracksuits too...in case you want to match the cup.”</p><p>Daniel laughed. He couldn’t help himself. The absurdity of his entire situation was too overwhelming.</p><p>Johnson smiled even wider and said, “It’s good to hear that. Laughter. There’s been so little of it around here lately.” </p><p>She looked down into her cup then took a careful sip. Her smile became wistful and sad. There was a story there, Daniel could see it plain as day, but he felt a bit uncomfortable about bringing it up. He didn’t really know anything about Johnson and he didn’t think it was any of his business why she was overtaken by whatever she was remembering.</p><p>His laugh faded to a rueful grin and he decided to follow her lead, gingerly raising his tea to his lips. At the first taste, he realized that it was green tea with a hint of honey. He’d never been especially fond of tea but he could appreciate when it was well brewed. They drank silently together for a long while and Daniel found that his racing mind was calming.</p><p>Eventually, when their cups  had been emptied and Daniel’s hand had completely stopped shaking, Johnson leaned back against the hull behind them and brushed her honey blond hair from her face. </p><p>“So,” she started. “How are you feeling, now?”</p><p>Daniel chuckled a little, wise to her game. The tea had been incredibly relaxing. </p><p>“Better, thank you.”</p><p>“I’m glad. You looked like you were thinking of jumping out the emergency exit just to escape.”</p><p>Daniel eyed the plug door across from them with the rack of chutes stacked next to it. He’d done dives this high before. He was a bit out of practice and his prosthesis might prove a challenge but he figured he could make it work, if need be.</p><p>“Well, I can’t say that I’m not still thinking about it.”</p><p>He looked into his mostly empty drink, swirling the dregs of tea leaves around the bottom of the porcelain. </p><p>“Tell me, then,” Johnson murmured gently. “Tell me what you’re thinking. Really.”</p><p>Daniel sighed and leaned his head back into the hull to mirror Johnson.</p><p>“I guess- I guess I just never saw my life heading here, you know?” He curved his head to look her in the eyes and continued, “Things were supposed to be different. I had a plan for my life, a path I worked hard to carve out for myself and now everything’s gone in an instant, leaving just the...”</p><p>He shook his head and pressed his lips together, not quite knowing how to continue.</p><p>“Regrets,” she finished for him. Her face softened and her hand stretched out to squeeze his arm in comfort.</p><p>Daniel smiled again, softer this time, and took the kindness that was offered. It proved easier to talk to Johnson than he’d been expecting, given his first impression of her. She was so squirrelly about the job, as expected from a professional spy, but she was very open in other ways. She was a tough one to pin down but Daniel found himself warming up to the challenge.</p><p>“Sousa, I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through but I’ve been ripped from my life a few times and it’s...never fun.”</p><p>Another story there. Daniel was starting to really want to ask more and since he’d never been one to shy away from anything, he simply asked.</p><p>“Regrets for you, too?”</p><p>Johnson exhaled a painful chuckle. “So many. Recently, I wondered if maybe we’d have a chance to change things with this mission. But we just seem doomed to let the world make the same mistakes. Logically, I understand why the Director wants to keep the timeline intact. I can see how reasonable that is in my mind but my gut is just telling me there must be something we can do to make things…”</p><p>“Better,” he finished for her this time.</p><p>She smiled. “Yeah.”</p><p>“You saved me,” he offered and realized that he was feeling grateful for that in a way he hadn’t before their conversation.</p><p>“We did. Which is definitely a win, in my books.”</p><p>“For me too, I guess. It certainly beats dying in a hotel pool, shot in the back by Hydra.” Daniel shuddered at the thought.</p><p>“Even if it means staying on the crazy time warp train with us?”</p><p>“Well, I always have a back up plan if I need it,” he said and nodded to the parachutes across from them.</p><p>“Don’t jump ship too soon,” Johnson countered and laughed. “You’ll miss out on Coulson’s calamari surprise later tonight, if we ever get a chance to wind down for a minute.”</p><p>“It’s been kind of rocket fast around here, that’s for sure,” he said, eyes back on his empty teacup. Johnson grunted in agreement.</p><p>A thought occurred to Daniel and he frowned. “How can it be a surprise dish if I already know it’s calamari?”</p><p>“Indeed,” she intoned mysteriously. </p><p>Daniel cut his eyes toward her only to find a teasing grin on her face. Her nose scrunched up endearingly and her cheeks were flushed pink.</p><p>“You really are playing up the enigmatic angle, huh?”</p><p>Johnson burst into laughter. “If I didn’t, how would I get you to like me?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sure there are other reasons to like you, Agent Johnson,” he shot back quickly.</p><p>The moment he said it, he regretted how flirty it was. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed how drawn to her he was becoming or how capable he found her. He’d been aware of her from the moment he’d stepped into his office back at Area 51. Yet, everything was just so chaotic right then. Although their conversation had gone a long way with calming his nerves, his worries weren’t completely wiped clean. It was definitely not the time to pursue anything with anyone, let alone with a time traveling super spy from the future. That was just asking for trouble.</p><p>“Well,” she continued smoothly without acknowledging his accidental overture. “I look forward to proving you right.”</p><p>Johnson stood from her seat and gestured her hand towards the hatch from which she’d appeared.</p><p>“Come on, let me show you your bunk. Then we have to get briefed on the mission with Coulson and May.”</p><p>Grateful for being let out of his blunder, Daniel grabbed his cane and stood from the jump seat. He followed Johnson out of the loading bay and into the Zephyr proper. Despite how comfortable Johnson had made him, he couldn’t shake feeling like Alice being led down the rabbit hole...and the only way out was through.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoilers for 7x06</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel sat numb and exhausted on an uncomfortable stool. The sharp tang of the recent time jump still hung in the air, flavoring the back of his throat with a metallic taste. He could hear the other agents bustling to and fro, calling out to each other about things he was too tired to try to understand. He didn’t pay them any mind as his eyes were locked on a glass tube holding his newly forged partner and friend. His breathing came in time with the beeps of the miraculous machine somehow repairing Daisy Johnson before his very eyes.</p><p>It had been over a decade since he’d felt the kind of fear and rage he’d experienced at seeing what the youngest Malick was doing to Agent Johnson. Nathaniel Malick may have said he wasn’t Hydra but his actions betrayed him as the Nazi scumbag he really was. Daniel had not seen such grotesque cruelty since the War and he’d certainly not expected to see it’s likeness again thirty-one years afterward. So many of his friends and colleagues had given their lives to stop the spread of Hydra and Nazism, so many victims had perished at their fascist hands. Learning that the movement had survived so far into the future after all of that sacrifice was the worst part of his adventure with this new SHIELD. It made him sick to his stomach.</p><p>The mission had gone south from the moment they’d stepped into the old speakeasy. Daniel wasn’t sure of all the details on how everything could’ve gone so spectacularly wrong--some of the divergences had preceded his entry into the mission--but it was as if some cosmic being was rooting against them. Or maybe time itself was.</p><p><em> Time </em>. Daniel thought it was funny how you could have too little or too much of it. Rare to have just the right amount. It had been barely a few hours that he and Johnson had been kidnapped but it had certainly felt like years to Daniel. Being chained to a wall, listening to what they were doing to his partner, trying to catch glimpses of her status through cracks in wood panels...the time had stretched on for eons. Then when they’d finally escaped, all Daniel could do was panic over the idea of running out of time to get back to the Zephyr before it jumped away. </p><p>He’d driven in the Malick kid’s stolen truck for nearly an hour until he’d found a way back to the alley outside the auxiliary entrance of the Lighthouse base where they’d been taken and from there back to the Zephyr. The entire way he’d been terrified that Johnson would die right beside him. He’d kept one hand on the wheel of the car and one on Johnson’s wrist to keep track of her pulse, trying hard to stop his pained leg from any involuntary spasms that pressed his prosthesis into the gas pedal. She’d lost so much blood...and other things. He’d had the basic first aid training all agents were required to have but nothing to help with some sick monster ripping out glands and spinal fluid. </p><p>But they <em> had </em>made it. Despite everything, he’d gotten Agent Johnson home. And by the time he’d fallen clumsily onto the stool he was still collapsed on, he’d made the decision to stay.</p><p>Daniel leaned back against the metal post behind him, the sharp corner wedged between his shoulder blades. His leg was still twinging, both real and phantom pain throbbing after so much stress. He was covered in grime and he smelled disgusting but for some reason he couldn’t move. He just kept staring at Johnson’s face behind the glass.</p><p>Agents Simmons and May had cleaned her up and changed her clothes before placing her in the tube...the healing pod, it was apparently called. Her bruised skin was shiny with some type of ointment. Her wounds were heavily wrapped in gauze. Simmons had explained that before they could operate properly on her wounds, her blood and spinal fluid would have to be replaced by the machine. He didn’t understand quite how it worked and he was wary of the fact that it was Chronicom in origin but Daniel could see that with each whiz of the little light across her body, she was being replenished. Already her cheeks and lips were rosy with color instead of the pale gray they’d become in the tack room of Malick’s stable.</p><p>Something in his chest that he only just noticed had been clenched relaxed at the sight. He let out a shaky breath and finally let his eye-line break from the pod. He slid his right arm along the partition next to him and leaned his head against the partition’s glass. </p><p>His upper thigh seized with pain and he hissed, curling in on himself a little. He reached down with his free arm and started to knead the area in an attempt to relieve it. His best bet would be to remove his prosthesis and soak in a long bath but he had a feeling that it would be a while before he could do that. As far as he could tell, there were only community showers on the flying command center.</p><p>The pain in his thigh lessened a bit after a few more minutes of massaging and Daniel relaxed his shoulders. The pain wasn’t gone, just settled into a dull ache, which he could handle more readily. </p><p>There was a loud deep from the healing pod and he jerked to attention. Inside the glass Johnson’s face was twisted into a grimace and her cut left hand clenched beside her. Then she started to convulse.</p><p>“Hey,” Daniel shouted and wrenched himself up off of the stool. “Agent Simmons!”</p><p>He limped a little over to the glass tube, careful not to touch the sterilized area. The wall panel behind the healing pod glowed with colored lights and charts with text he didn’t understand. He shouted again and finally heard footsteps rushing in behind him.</p><p>“What is it,” Simmons gasped. She moved past him to the wall panel, reading the information.</p><p>“She just started shaking a- and I don’t know.”</p><p>Simmons moved over to the healing pod and waved her fingers over it. Suddenly some type of...light appeared in mid-air and she used her hands to move the light around. Daniel had never seen anything like it and he’d seen a <em> lot </em>in the past few days.</p><p>Before he could wonder at more of this team’s future technology, Johnson grimaced again and her mouth opened as if she were crying out. The noise was completely muffled behind the glass. Daniel didn’t hear anything but he could see she was in pain.</p><p>He didn’t speak. The worry he was feeling was etched across Agent Simmons’ face tenfold. Even more, he didn’t want to distract her. He’d been told by Johnson that Simmons’ normal duties were usually medical and biological in nature rather than as a time traveler. She’d said the woman was one of the most intelligent scientists of their time. He had to trust in that.</p><p>Simmons turned to him suddenly. “She seems to be reacting poorly to her treatment. We are pumping her system with a regenerative formula to trick her body into developing more cerebrospinal fluid than it normally would in a day to make up for the rapid systemic loss she had.”</p><p>“Understood?” He did understand most of that but he just wasn’t sure why it had gone wrong. “Reacted poorly? What does that mean?”</p><p>Simmons paused and looked at the wall panel again. “While you were captured did Nathaniel give Daisy any type of injection?”</p><p>Daniel nodded. “Yes, he gave us both a sedative or something to keep us from fighting back. I don’t know what it was but it really messed us up. Johnson couldn’t even use her abilities.”</p><p>“Describe it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What was it like? Did it make you tired, drowsy, limp? Did you want to vomit? Be as exact as you can, please.”</p><p>Daniel thought hard about it. “I could barely keep my eyes open. I wasn’t nauseous or anything but my vision was kind of blurry at first like looking through a dirty glass window. And when I tried to grab Malick at one point, it felt like my muscles stopped working and I fell to the side. Although that eventually wore off.”</p><p>“How long did that take?”</p><p>“Just over an hour and a half, about. By the time-” Daniel swallowed hard. “By the time the Malick kid was done hurting...experimenting on Johnson, it was almost completely gone. When the next of his men came in to get me, I was clear headed and alert. I could even move enough to fight him off.”</p><p>As he spoke, Simmons tapped a finger on the wall panel and slid her finger across the glass. Daniel’s mouth gaped a little when the text on the screen flowed with her movement. It was like his picture on Johnson’s phone device but larger.</p><p>“Keep going,” Simmons urged and knocked him out of his stupor.</p><p>“Right, um,” Daniel cleared his throat. “Daisy- I mean, Agent Johnson...she said that it felt like cement was in her veins. A fairly accurate description, actually. Heavy and rough.”</p><p>Simmons stopped tapping on the screen and looked over her shoulder at him. “Really? Cement?”</p><p>He nodded, not understanding the significance. Simmons obviously did since her shoulders seemed to relax and she strode confidently back to Johnson’s healing pod. She waved her hands and the healing pod extended a needle, injecting Johnson in the neck.</p><p>Johnson seized one more time and then suddenly relaxed, her face settling into a mostly serene mask except for the slight wrinkle that stayed over her nose. The only sign that she was still in some discomfort. </p><p>“What was that? Did it...you know, work?” He asked, jerking forward involuntarily.</p><p>Simmons waved him off and he took that as a sign to move back a bit. He used the opportunity to move back to the stool and sit again, taking pressure off of his leg.</p><p>“It seems that Nathaniel gave you both a targeted brain enzyme inhibitor to prevent the use of powers. Such drugs can usually have the added effect of making coordination difficult, which would make controlling a hostage easier. It likely had less of an effect on you and wore off earlier than they were expecting since you do not show the gene expression of an Inhuman like Daisy.”</p><p>Daniel nodded. “He thought I was like her and was going to use his experiment on me next. He thought that I didn’t age.”</p><p>Simmons' face changed. “Like Jiaying,” she said contemplatively. </p><p>Daniel frowned. “Jiaying. Johnson said that name when they brought her back in. She was mumbling it over and over.”</p><p>Simmons’ eyes widened slightly and then her face crumbled into sympathy. She looked down at where Johnson slept, calm now after whatever drug had taken effect, and then reached out a hand to graze her fingertips across the pod. It was like she wanted to press them to the other woman’s cheek but had to settle for the glass instead.</p><p>“Who was Jiaying?” he asked softly.</p><p>Simmons’ mouth twisted into a not-quite smile, not-quite frown. She shook her head and finally spoke, “Jiaying was Daisy’s mother. Just after Daisy was born, Hydra kidnapped Jiaying and delivered her with others from their village to Daniel Whitehall. He performed unconscionable experiments on her, attempting to steal her power from her. The same experiments Nathaniel began with Daisy, only to a more extreme extent.”</p><p>Daniel remembered back to the Malick kid’s threat of switching from needles to knives and he shuddered. Johnson’s desperate voice as she whispered out the name echoed in his head. ‘It happened before,’ she’d said between her groans of pain. Daniel hadn’t really understood then but now he did. </p><p>“He was a butcher,” Simmons hissed angrily, still talking about Whitehall. </p><p>“Both of them were,” he agreed, vitriol in his voice. He felt a vicious surge of delight that Nathaniel had so deeply overestimated himself and brought the roof down on his own head. He hoped that Malick had killed himself but Daniel feared that their luck was not that fortuitous. They’d not had an abundance of it so far.</p><p>“The thing is, Nathaniel shouldn’t have had anything like this enzyme inhibitor yet. It is far beyond his time.”</p><p>“More of the Chronicoms’ handiwork,” he added.</p><p>Daniel sighed. So much of what he understood about time travel made him uncomfortable. It was all so...theoretical. He was not particularly used to feeling so out of control, at least not for many years. It seemed to him that no matter what they did, the results always came out worse than how they’d started. All they could really do was their best but for Daniel even his best seemed woefully insufficient. </p><p>From the frown now covering Simmons’ face, he could tell that she felt similarly. He regretted yelling at her earlier. It had been unprofessional. He wasn’t even really angry at her so much as the entire situation had rattled him. He had not woken two days ago expecting to be ripped out of time. It hadn’t quite occurred to him that they all were feeling the same. Before Shaw’s defensive words to the contrary, Daniel had assumed that this time travel business was just Sunday baseball for them.</p><p>“I apologize,” he said suddenly.</p><p>Simmons looked up from checking on Johnson’s status. “Sorry?”</p><p>“For yelling at you earlier,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to snap my cap. I’m just…”</p><p>“Frustrated,” she finished. “Trust me, we all are.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he looked down at his hands, opening and closing them in contemplation. </p><p>Daniel heard Simmons’ footsteps as she walked around the pod to his side of the room.</p><p>“I shall accept the apology,” she said. “Provided you leave immediately and clean up.”</p><p>Daniel looked up in surprise. Simmons was smiling, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping impatiently.</p><p>“You don’t want Daisy to see you looking like this when she wakes up tomorrow, now do you?”</p><p>Daniel let out an uneasy chuckle. “W- what?”</p><p>Simmons’ smile grew broader and she just hummed. Daniel’s eyes widened and he cut them over to Johnson’s sleeping form then back to Simmons. He was far too old for blushing like a school boy but he felt his cheeks warm involuntarily. Simmons laughed at his inexplicable reaction.</p><p>Daniel cleared his throat and leveraged himself to his feet, choosing the better part of valor and planning on beating a rather hasty retreat back to his bunk. He didn’t make it ten steps down the hall to the crew rest before he became aware of the shouts from the plane behind him.</p><p>“Simmons,” he heard Agent Rodriguez yell. “Get in here!”</p><p>Daniel stopped immediately and leaned heavily on the cold metal wall as he turned around. He took a moment to gear himself up for whatever crisis had clearly happened, then pushed off of the wall and headed back to the aft of the Zephyr where the scientific rooms and garage were located. He moved as quickly as possible given that he was without his cane, lost somewhere on Malick’s property. By the time he made it back, May and Enoch had joined the other two agents. They were all huddled around a flickering screen. The same screen that had malfunctioned when they’d jumped unexpectedly earlier that day.</p><p><em> Fantastic </em>, Daniel thought grimly.</p><p>Simmons had one of the HT radios they all now used grasped tight in her hand and raised to her mouth.</p><p>“Deke, where are you?” she yelled into the radio.</p><p>There was static and then Shaw’s voice came through distorted, talking about looking for Mack. Daniel assumed that Mack must’ve left the base after they’d landed. He’d heard some of what had happened to the man while they’d been with Malick and Daniel didn’t envy him the experience.</p><p>“No, where are you? Get back here, the Zephyr’s leaving! Both of you get back <em> now </em>. Our signal’s deteriorating. I think we’re about to jump!”</p><p>Daniel’s eyes widened. The Zephyr rumbled and groaned with a new clang after it had apparently taken a missile during a firefight. Daniel stumbled a bit at the shake and caught himself at the door between the medical area and Simmons’ lab. He locked eyes with a frantic Simmons, her fingers still in a vise grip around the radio, and then he felt the jump and got that strange itch in the back of the throat. It lasted for only a few seconds but Daniel’s stomach dropped. </p><p>They were gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I pulled all of the medical stuff directly out of my ass. Don't @ me, please. lmfao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel wasn’t sure what had happened but he knew it wasn’t good. The massive plane fell into a near dive for several heart stopping minutes before it leveled off and began to coast to the ground, finally landing with a thud. The danger wasn’t over yet. Sparks began to erupt along some type of panel of buttons and the lights flickered before going out, plunging them into a near darkness cut only by the sunlight leaking through the portholes of the plane. </p><p>“What the hell was that?” he bellowed. His hands were in a vice grip on the hatchway door in case the whole plane fell out from under him.</p><p>Simmons looked up from the HT radio and with horror writ large on her face said, “We jumped.”</p><p>No shit.</p><p>“No <em> shit! </em>” said Agent Rodriguez, giving voice to his own thoughts. “We went without Mack...and Deke,” she continued. </p><p>Simmons leaned forward onto the control panel in front of her. Her head fell down between her shoulders.</p><p>“Can we go back and get them,” Agent May asked slowly. How she stayed calm was incomprehensible to him. His heart was putting up such a racket in his ears, he could barely hear himself think.</p><p>“Sorry, May,” Simmons finally answered. “I forget you and Sousa weren’t there when I explained...” </p><p>She paused and took in a deep breath, straightening to a stand as she did. “No. We can’t go back. The way the time drive was designed, we only have the power to move forward, usually in the Chronicoms' wake.”</p><p>Daniel shut his eyes for a moment at her words. It was a done deal, then. He could never go back to his own time. Somehow it was not until then that he felt the weight of the choice he’d made to stay with this future SHIELD. There really was no turning back. </p><p>May tilted her head. “But we just jumped even though Coulson destroyed the Chronicoms' ship. How is that possible?”</p><p>Simmons shrugged. “I have no earthly idea. Perhaps Coulson didn’t completely destroy their ship. Or perhaps this is due to the damage Z1 took from the missile strike. I won’t know until Enoch and I can investigate.”</p><p>“How do we help Mack and Deke,” Rodriguez managed through gritted teeth. </p><p>Sympathy swept over Simmons’ face. “I’m sorry, Yo-yo. There’s nothing we can do for now. I can’t determine our next move until I have more information.”</p><p>Rodriguez’ eyes were wild and bouncing around the room. Even still, she took a step back and stiffly nodded her head. Her arms came up to cross tightly in front of her. She wasn’t happy with the answer but he supposed she had decided against pushing in the midst of their emergency. Daniel had picked up from scuttlebutt that she and Director Mack were in a relationship. It was no wonder she was terrified. </p><p>Not that he wasn’t also feeling another surge of panic creeping up on him. This was exactly the type of reason he’d almost jumped ship the moment they’d landed in 1973. The only thing that had made him change his mind was-</p><p>A crash came from the medical bay behind him and it nearly stopped his heart. Suddenly the plane started shaking, vibrating almost. Everyone had to brace themselves against the rumble. It took him only a few seconds to recognize what had caused it.</p><p>“Daisy,” he whispered.</p><p>Daniel whipped around and stumbled into the medical bay, his footing unstable from the pain in his leg and the suddenly heaving deck. The others were hot on his heels.</p><p>They found Daisy’s pod dimmed inside. The little lights that had been passing over her body were off and the wall panel was black instead of flashing with lights. Daniel swung around to the side of the pod to peer inside. Daisy’s skin was back to pale gray and her hand wound had reopened. Her face was twisted up again in pain. Every time she grimaced, the room shook more.</p><p>Daniel sucked in a breath at the state of her, his heart caught in his throat. Simmons pushed past him to the pod, frantically pressing buttons on the side. Daniel stepped back to give her room.</p><p>“Damn,” she exclaimed and slammed a hand on the base of the healing pod. “A power surge. Enoch, we need power back in the Zephyr, immediately. Check the engineering corridor and then the drive room. May, could you check avionics as well?”</p><p>Enoch and May hurried away, presumably to follow her orders. Simmons then moved to a wall and opened a cabinet door. From inside, she struggled to lift a large red and gray metal machine, nearly dropping it. Daniel started to take a step forward to help but Rodriguez got there first. The other agent very casually pulled the machine from Simmons’ hands and held it up in front of her. Daniel’s mouth dropped open a little before he caught himself and snapped it shut.</p><p>“Where do you need it?” Rodriguez asked.</p><p>“Here at her feet,” Simmons indicated. She flashed the other woman a grateful smile as she set down the machine.</p><p>“We need to hook the healing pod up to this generator until Enoch can get the power up and running.”</p><p>The two women worked quickly to open the end of the pod and pull wires, connecting them to what he now knew was a type of compact genny. It was beyond him to help so he let them work, choosing to keep an eye on Daisy instead. </p><p>She was still tossing and turning, and the room was tossing with her. She was paler than before and her hair was all over her face. His fingertips itched to brush it back into place but he didn’t dare open the pod and contaminate the clean area. He settled for talking to her through the glass while the others worked.</p><p>“Agent Johnson, you’re safe. You’re home. We’re going to take care of you, understood? But you need to calm down.”</p><p>Something fell from a shelf behind him but he ignored it to keep his attention on Daisy, telling her that she was in good hands and that they were working to help her. He didn’t even know for sure if she could hear him. He had barely heard her earlier when she was in pain. He couldn’t stop trying to reach her, and since there was nothing else he could do to help the other agents with their future tech, he kept going.</p><p>Something must’ve gotten through because eventually the room’s shaking calmed down and Daisy stopped tossing as much. Her face was still twisted in pain but there was nothing he could do about that.</p><p>After a good fifteen minutes or so, Simmons and Rodriguez finished connecting the genny to the pod. Simmons flipped a switch and the power came back on inside the chamber. She pressed a few more buttons on the chamber’s panel and finally--<em> blessedly </em>--Daisy began to relax and settled. The grimace on her face eased and the tension in Daniel’s shoulders eased with it.</p><p>“Good,” said Simmons as she stepped back from the chamber. “That should keep for another ten hours or so. Hopefully by then we’ll have the power back up.”</p><p>“Now what do we need to do,” he asked and eased back down into the stool next to Daisy’s chamber and a low metal table. He let out a groan and began rubbing his thigh.</p><p>The noise pulled Simmons’ attention away from the healing pod and she took three big strides over to where he was now sat.</p><p>“That, Agent Sousa, is for us to work on. What <em> you </em>need to do is rest,” she said, voice firm. She crossed her arms over her chest. “How is your leg?”</p><p>Simmons’ foot was tapping impatiently and her brows were pulled down into a stern glare. He hesitated for only a few more seconds before finally giving in.</p><p>“It’s...had better days.” </p><p>“Well then, drop your pants.”</p><p>Daniel blinked. “W- what?”</p><p>She let out a huff in frustration then crossed over to a water station where she washed her hands quickly and pulled on blue gloves. She returned to his side and went down on one knee. “Come on, let’s take a look.” </p><p>The silence stretched in the room. Daniel’s wide eyes flicked from where Simmons was in front of him to where Agent Rodriguez stood staring hard at the wall. When he looked back down at the woman trying to attend to his leg, she’d finally glanced up and noticed the awkwardness in the room.</p><p>“Um, I’m gonna go see...if Enoch needs any help,” murmured Rodriguez. She scurried from the room without looking at them and Daniel’s face colored. </p><p>He wasn’t a stranger to hospitals or even to getting undressed in front of nurses. Years of medical visits had seen to that. He drew the line at doing so in front of colleagues, however, so he was thankful for Agent Rodriguez’ quick exit.</p><p>Simmons scrunched her nose. “Oh, sorry about that. There’s a reason I didn’t pursue being a medical doctor after my residency.”</p><p>Daniel hummed in agreement but decided not to comment. Once they were alone, Daniel stood and began to gingerly take down his pants to expose his prosthetic leg. He kept his balance with one hand on the table to his right then lowered himself back down onto the stool. He relaxed his thigh to help unseal from the socket, pressing carefully to help the leg off. Then he completely removed the prosthesis and set it to the side, pulling off the sock as well.</p><p>His thigh was paler than the rest of him. The skin on the end of his residual limb was red with irritation from the stress of recent activities, more so than its usual redness after a day of walking. He was certainly going to pay for his inattention later.</p><p>Simmons tsked and reached forward to gingerly examine the area. His thigh seized a little in response to her prodding but he tried not to move too much. “You should’ve been off your feet hours ago, Agent Sousa. My apologies for not noticing.”</p><p>He shook his head. “It’s been one hell of a day. There was no time for anything else.”</p><p>Simmons stood and moved over to a cabinet, searching the shelves and removing jars that she set aside on a counter in front of her.</p><p>“Well, you’re going to make time now. For the next few hours, I want you to leave off your prosthesis and use crutches. I’m also prescribing you a medicinal bath, at least five solid hours of sleep, a few painkillers, and this to help with the irritation. Directions for each are written on the bottles.”</p><p>She returned to his side with a small bag and set out a large jar of some type of ointment, a taller container of bath salts, and a small pill bottle that rattled when she dropped it on the table. While he examined the items she’d set down, Simmons went to pull two crutches from a closet. They were not much different than the ones he had at home. A slightly different shape, perhaps. </p><p>“I thought this miracle plane didn’t have baths,” he said absently as he opened the bottle of ointment and took a sniff. A strong scent of coconut wafted out and he jerked back imperceptibly.</p><p>“Not in the crew showers. However, for medical reasons, I had a small bathing chamber installed a little further down the hall. The others use it as well. There should be enough hot water still in the tank after we cleaned Daisy for you to take a bath as well.”</p><p>Daniel shook his head. “This is the worst time for me to be out of--”</p><p>“Ah, ah...doctor’s orders.” Simmons’ finger was raised in the air. “We have everything in hand. You are one of the few field agents we have available with Daisy, Mack, and Coulson out of commission for the time being. You need to recover and be ready for later.”</p><p>Daniel thought about protesting more but the truth was he was exhausted. He’d not really rested in nearly two days. Being knocked out and drugged by Malick didn’t count as sleep. His mind was in tatters from the rapid changes to his life over the last seventy-two hours and his weary body was almost as bad as his morale. It was time to let go. The only thing that made him hesitate further was currently lying in a glass tube beside him.</p><p>He looked over at Daisy’s face. She looked peaceful now. Her forehead was smoothed out from its earlier scowl. Her color had returned again and her cheeks were pink with life. Her eyelids rested softly over rapidly moving eyes, her lashes feathered out with each movement. She was dreaming. Hopefully nothing but good dreams.</p><p>“She’ll be fine,” Simmons said softly.</p><p>Daniel tore his eyes away from Daisy’s face.<em> When had she become ‘Daisy’ to him </em>, he wondered. He hadn’t noticed the shift until just then.</p><p>“What,” he said out loud instead of voicing his discovery of his own change.</p><p>“Daisy will be fine, I said. You can stand down.”</p><p>Daniel shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Simmons smiled and started putting the jars she’d gathered into the small canvas bag she’d set out. “You’ve taken such good care of her. We’re all very pleased. You make a fine pair.”</p><p>“I’m sorry?” he sputtered, eyes going wide at the thought of Daisy’s team, her <em> family, </em>assessing him for...what he could not imagine.</p><p>Simmons’ smile stretched into cheshire territory and she handed him his pants. </p><p>He was so flabbergasted that he just went along with her. When he was as dressed as he could be with his loose pant leg pinned out of the way, he lifted himself up onto crutches now adjusted for his height. Simmons helped him hook the canvas bag over his shoulder and started to usher him from the room and down the hall to the medical bath area. Thankfully, she also refrained from any other embarrassing comments about his bald affection for her friend.</p><p>By the time he had washed, soaked for an hour, and made it back to his new bunk in the crew rest, his thoughts were a hurricane in his head. The lives that an agent lived didn’t leave much time for love, as he had intimated to Coulson the day before. Sometimes you had to just resign yourself to flings and wayfarer dalliances in the night. He had survived for years on that after he and Peggy had parted ways for good. He had long since accepted that was his lot in life. A relatively small price to pay in retrospect for saving lives. </p><p>Daniel laid down in his bunk, having applied the coconut oil ointment to his stump and changed into the soft, cotton SHIELD “tracksuit” Daisy had promised was in his room. There were a few changes of clothes as well, thankfully without any elephant pants. He leaned his new crutches to the right of the bed and reached over to press the switch on the portable lantern on his side table, plunging the room into darkness. He laid back into his pillow, hands over his chest and fingers laced. His eyes stared up into the dark.</p><p>He couldn’t deny that his care for Daisy Johnson had grown exponentially since meeting her three days before. Even more so after their horrific experience with Malick earlier that day. That said, trauma was not the way he wanted to start a relationship, even in their field. He had gone down that road before and knew well the pitfalls that could follow. If he did pursue something deeper with Daisy, if she would even have him, he wanted it to be genuine and liberating instead of burdened by the shadow of pain and fear.</p><p>Daniel cursed Nathaniel Malick’s name again, frustrated that a jumped up Nazi kid had possibly tainted the start of something good in his life. He’d not had anything like it in so long...hadn’t even the <em> hope </em>of it. It was a near physical wound to think of letting it pass him by.</p><p>That, of course, was assuming Daisy even wanted to start an affair with him. That was another fear Daniel had. The possibility that she would completely reject him. Sure, they had flirted a bit together when they’d first met and during subsequent meetings. Yet that was not a guarantee of a woman’s true affection. He had also come to learn that lesson the hard way. Before he could let himself fall any deeper, he had to be sure. Sure that it was what Daisy wanted...and sure that it was what he needed, too. </p><p>Daniel huffed out a breath and turned over, squeezing his eyes shut and burrowing deeper into the surprisingly soft pillows. The low hum of the Zephyr started up again, Enoch and the others seemingly having fixed the power issue as Simmons had promised. Daniel released the last of the tension in his body. The tangled web of his thoughts, however, remained and followed him into his dreams. Dreams of honey blond hair, sad eyes, and a wide smile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was actually a pretty difficult chapter to write as I wanted to line up with the next episode tonight. </p><p>I know it won't be completely canon now but let's all pretend it lines up perfectly, yes?</p><p>I did a bit of research on post-WWII to 1950s leg prosthesis. Super fascinating history, btw. I know I probably did not get everything right, since I'm not an amputee. Let me know if anything is glaring and I'll adjust my writing.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this next installment took so long. I wanted to wait until more eps had passed before I posted it. It's an extra long chapter to compensate.</p><p>Y'all should know I am operating as if more time passes between episodes than what appears on screen. I try to place the stretched time where they make the most sense but there will be some inconsistencies. </p><p>Speaking of...this story is most def not canon-compliant as of 7x10 so just go with it when it comes to the deviations from the episodes. I'm not finna go back and re-write for just that kind of stuff.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daniel’s eyes snapped open when he felt the Zephyr jump. He had a few seconds of disoriented panic, not sure where he was or what was happening. The only light in the room came from the porthole above his bunk. His eyes adjusted and he saw from the small round opening a darkened night sky painted with clouds.</p><p>Daniel groaned and reached up to rub a hand over his face. His heart was still pounding in his chest and he took a few deep breaths to try to calm down. His dreams clung to his mind like a cobweb. The chill of a bitter cold basement of an abandoned Belgium home, the echo of his leg blown to bits and only Mike’s voice keeping him going. A dirty tack room and Daisy laying bloodied on his leg with him unable to help them both. Old and new memories mingled, blurring into one in the moments before he had opened his eyes.</p><p>There was a reason he didn’t really talk about Mike or his time in Bastogne. Talking about it always brought back the memories and the dreams. Now he had new ones to haunt him as well. </p><p><em> Fantastic </em>, he thought and rubbed vigorously at the sleep in his eyes.</p><p>The familiar tang of a recent jump made him finally get up and turn on the lights proper. He looked at the small clock on the bedside table and found that he’d only gotten three of his prescribed five hours of sleep. He felt refreshed, however, so he didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. He wanted to get busy working. He’d always hated being idle. The team was still down three men. It was no time to dilly-dally around.</p><p>It also went without saying that he was anxious to check on Daisy. He could only hope that a few more hours in the miraculous healing pod had improved her condition. Agent Simmons had said she’d be fine, that she’d wake the next day but Daniel needed to see it for himself.</p><p>At the thought, Daniel hurriedly secured his leg back onto his thigh, then changed into the black pants and blue shirt Daisy had left for him. The clothes smelled fresh and were crisp from an iron. He rubbed a hand along the soft cotton sleeve of the shirt then decided to roll them up his arms a little. He cinched the leather belt he’d been given around his waist after tucking in his shirt. The belt was a bit too large for him but he made do. The only shoes available were his own from his time, so he wiped a small rag over them to clean off any remnants of the Malick tack room and pulled them on. His cane was gone but he felt rested enough not to need it or one of the crutches so he left them leaning against a wall as he exited his small bunk. </p><p>It was relatively quiet in the crew rest area when he strode past the galley and fully stocked pantry. As he drew closer to the laboratory and the medical bay, the din of a ship in crisis began to rise. Daniel’s blood began to pump faster at the prospect of yet another catastrophe befalling his new team. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another with this lot.</p><p>Daniel ignored the voices for the moment as he rounded into the medical bay where Daisy lay, still in her glass tube. He noted that the generator was gone. Clearly the power issues with the chamber had been repaired while he’d slept. The fallen objects from her quakes had been cleaned up as well and everything was packed neatly back in their place.</p><p>There was no one else in the room. Daniel stretched to the side to peer through the glass barrier and found that there was no one in the lab adjacent or in the cargo hold beyond that. The yelling was coming from the above deck and the command center.</p><p>Daniel moved closer to where Daisy lay. She was still pale, though not nearly as bad as she’d been in the tack room. Her bandages had been changed again, he noticed, and her hair had been brushed a little. Her face was relatively serene except for the rapid movement of her eyes behind closed lids. Dreaming. Daniel hoped her dreams were sweeter than his had been but he also knew the likelihood of that was low. She was a fellow soldier, after all. One who’d just been tortured by a monster. Nightmares came with the territory.</p><p>There was nothing he could do for her except press his hand on the glass near her cheek and wish her well. It felt woefully inadequate but unless he could manage to time travel the ship back to before she’d been hurt, it had to be enough. For now, he would focus on making sure nothing interrupted her rest such as whatever had caused the ruckus from above.</p><p>Daniel left the darkened medical bay, passed through the lab and cargo hold, and climbed carefully up the ladder to the next deck. He made his way quickly to the command center. When he passed from the hallway to the open area of the flight deck, he had to jump suddenly to the side to avoid a storming Agent Rodriguez as she left. Agent May hurried along behind her, face stoic as usual but her pace quick.</p><p>Simmons stood in front of a colorful screen. Her face looked tight, her lips pressed together and her hand shaking a little on the radio still clutched in her hand. She looked up as he came fully into the room. Her face relaxed somewhat upon seeing him.</p><p>“Agent Sousa, I hope you were able to get some rest,” she said. Her voice was light as if she were going for cheerful but there was a waiver to it that belied the truth of their situation.</p><p>“What’s happening,” he asked, cutting to the chase. There was clearly no time for anything else.</p><p>The other agent sighed and looked down at the control panel in front of her. “I don’t know everything that’s gone wrong but we’ve jumped a few more times inexplicably since you’ve been asleep.”</p><p>Daniel’s eyes widened. How much farther into the future were they? Were they even in the same decade anymore? </p><p>“When are we?” </p><p>“We’re in 1983, now. Thankfully we’ve only been making micro-jumps so far but it means that nearly two years have passed for Deke and Director Mack.”</p><p>She spoke calmly, as if that weren’t the most alarming thing Daniel had heard in years. Only a day before he’d been ready to be left behind in 1973 but he couldn’t imagine getting left behind for <em> years </em>without any warning or any choice. Certainly not now that he’d started to finally find his place with this new team. Considering the length of time these agents had clearly been together, Shaw and the Director must’ve been reeling.</p><p>Simmons reached down to type on a computer keyboard that was bolted into a station on the bridge. A bunch of fast flying letters and numbers scrolled over the screen in front of her. He didn’t bother trying to read something he knew he’d never understand.</p><p>“So what’s the plan?” he asked instead, focusing on the solution.</p><p>“May and Yo-Yo are going to leave now, catch up with them, and return here after our next jump. I just have to make sure they are equipped with the right information so that they make it back before we jump again after that.” </p><p>She continued to type on her computer and he backed away to let her concentrate. </p><p>Eventually, May and Rodriguez left as planned. When the Zephyr jumped again, there they were right on schedule. Along with the women were Shaw, the Director, and what he’d been told was Coulson in a small clear box. He...didn’t quite understand that but considering how much flew over his head with this team, he just decided to believe them. It was no more absurd than what Agent Simmons had explained to them all in the command center about their current impending doom.</p><p>He’d vaguely understood the logic of what was happening with the jumps. Time travel was almost starting to make some sense to him, at least theoretically. He’d read H.G. Wells, of course, but you could never compare fiction to reality. The very idea of him being in a time machine was preposterous and yet there he was...there they all were. They were trusting their lives to a machine that, in his short time with them, seemed to malfunction more often than it got it right.</p><p>What followed was the longest twenty minutes of his life. It had been a mad scramble trying to either come up with an alternate solution to Rodriguez fixing the machine or prepare to abandon ship. He’d learned that she was <em> also </em>an Inhuman, like Daisy. Between Rodriguez, May, and Daisy--not to mention whatever Coulson and Enoch were--he was starting to wonder if the entire team had some hidden superpower. </p><p>Daniel had tried to help where he could, holding flashlights and prepping parachutes, but it ultimately hadn’t been necessary. Rodriguez had been able to use her super-speed after all and the day was saved. Didn’t stop his anxiety from piquing at the very thought of “sinking into time,” whatever that meant. Nothing good, he assumed.</p><p>The Zephyr had been shut down while Shaw, Enoch, and Simmons examined the time travel device and made repairs. He’d offered his help there too but everything they’d discussed between them had made him slightly dizzy with trying to keep up. The three very gracefully did not comment on him eventually withdrawing to leave them to work. </p><p>Still, the much needed down time did give Daniel an opportunity to speak finally with Daisy, who had gotten out of the healing pod at the start of their twenty minute crisis and still had not returned to rest. He knew she was still up since the equipment room was the first place he’d checked after Simmons had informed him the pod had been moved there. The place was dark and empty, only a couple of chairs and some spare medical equipment sitting on a few desks.</p><p>Daniel made one more stop to the cargo hold to pick up his new prosthetic leg before searching the Zephyr again. He finally found her in Coulson’s lab, working on a small computer similar to the one that she’d had in that alley. He transferred the case from his hand to a table in the back, looking up to observe Coulson standing in a wall chamber. The man seemed to be sleeping, albeit while standing up.</p><p>Daniel had gotten a quick rundown of what Coulson was and how he could survive an explosion after Shaw had returned with the...man in a glass box. Apparently, Coulson had been human before but had died and been brought back as a robot, different from the kind of robot Enoch and the other Chronicoms were. His personality and memories were all recreated inside a mechanical mind. It was...a lot to take in for Daniel so he just decided to accept it. Still, seeing the man standing there looming in his wall chamber, face completely slack was incredibly unnerving. So Daniel turned away from Coulson and concentrated on the woman he’d come there for in the first place.</p><p>“Daisy, you look…” </p><p>He trailed off, uncertainly. </p><p>“Like death warmed over?” she offered with a sardonic smile.</p><p>Daniel couldn’t disagree with her. She was still ashen, her eyes had heavy bags beneath them, and her lips were cracked like they were drying out. She looked worse than she had half an hour ago. He watched as she reached for a glass of water on the table next to her and took a long pull.</p><p>“Tired,” he said kindly, instead. “You should get some more rest. I know Agent Simmons wanted you to have more time in the healing pod. You woke up too early.”</p><p>She turned back to her small computer. “I will as soon as I finish this.”</p><p>He pulled closer to her and peered at the screen. “What is it?”</p><p>“I need to do a systems check. The micro-jumps overloaded the servers. Not to mention the damage from the electrical surge you chuckle-heads decided to run through avionics. It’s slowing down all of Z1’s operating systems and causing issues with optimization. I’m creating a new algorithm to compensate for the increased traffic in case we have another, similar malfunction in the future.”</p><p>“Right,” he said, trying hard not to look like a wide-eyed pup.</p><p>Daniel had understood about thirty percent of what she’d said so he leaned back and let her do her thing. He returned to the new leg Simmons had made for him, finally having the chance to open the case and really examine it.</p><p>The lid folded back to reveal the prosthesis. On the back of the well of the case, behind the leg itself he found a small fold with a pamphlet inside. A quick glance across the neatly typed words and he discerned it to be a spec and user manual. He set it aside for the time being and turned his attention back to the near lifelike limb.</p><p>He’d seen prostheses that somewhat imitated a person’s leg movements. His current Stewart-Vickers Hydraulic Leg, which he had received before the company had sold their patent, had been modestly modified by one of his Area 51 scientists. It had attempted to mimic a human leg as much as possible, in function if not so much in presentation. It had been the most advanced prosthetic leg available in his time--a perk of being a Security Chief for the scientific branch of SHIELD. Well, the most advanced leg outside of the Stark model that Howard kept trying to foist on him. Daniel hadn’t quite worked up the enthusiasm to try the billionaire’s latest invention no matter how good the man insisted it was. If he knew anything about Howard, it would have some ridiculous feature like a booze compartment. </p><p>Nothing Daniel had seen in the 50s, not even Howard’s invention, matched what was in the case Simmons had offered him. Naturally colored skin, leg hair, toes, and even toenails. The leg was a perfect match for his non-amputated one and he absentmindedly wondered how she’d been able to make it so perfectly. She must’ve taken his measurements at some point. Maybe when he’d been examined earlier after returning from Malick’s tack room. Or maybe even further back when he’d been unconscious after Coulson had shot him with the...ICER pistol. </p><p>He reached down slowly and pressed a hand to the prosthesis. The skin felt as real as it looked, though cold and still like a corpse. Daniel’s chest got a little tight and he yanked back his hand.</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>Daniel snapped his head around. Daisy had left her station and was now coming up behind him. Her head craned over his shoulder curiously and she peered into the case holding his leg.</p><p>“Oh,” she said, getting a look inside. He followed her eye-line back to the case.</p><p>“Agent Simmons made it for me,” he said slowly, ignoring the strangeness of his rapid heartbeat. “She gave it to me in the middle of the twenty minute countdown.”</p><p>Daisy swung herself up into a tall chair beside where he stood. She was close enough that he could feel her body heat next to him. The weight of her eyes on his face was almost tangible but he kept his gaze locked on the fake leg in front of him.</p><p>She stayed silent for a while and then, “Not sure if you want it?”</p><p>Daniel almost laughed at the pointed question. She wasn’t wrong, necessarily. He had some doubts about the advanced future leg. More than that, he couldn’t help but wonder what this type of technology would have done for his life if he’d had it right after the War. Hell, even a few years prior when SHIELD had been founded, he’d been given command of the West Coast branch, and the naysayers had crawled out of the woodwork to criticize the infant agency’s choice.</p><p>“Not exactly,” he told her, looking up at last. “My whole life would’ve been different if I’d had this back when I was 27.”</p><p>Daisy just nodded. </p><p>Daniel had expected her to offer some sympathetic word or pitying glance but she was simply watching him, face mildly curious. Waiting for him to either continue or change the subject, if he so chose. Daniel felt his chest unclench at her easy presence.</p><p>He smiled a little. “I guess I have more hang-ups than I thought I did.”</p><p>Daisy’s mouth pulled to the side and her eyebrows came together in a cute little frown. </p><p>“You don’t have to use it,” she said finally. “Keep your current leg or we can make something different. It’s up to you. We turned your whole life upside down. We just want to watch out for you however we can.”</p><p>Daniel appreciated her words even if they didn’t quite alleviate all of his complex feelings about his past difficulties with being an amputee. Or his current difficulties with being a man out of time. In truth, they were not topics that a single conversation would reconcile. So he set aside his newly re-surfaced doubts and focused on the positives instead.</p><p>“I know, and I’m grateful,” he replied to her. He slapped a hand on the leg in the case. “And this...I do want to try it out. What’s the point of becoming a time-traveller if I don’t take advantage of future technology?”</p><p>“One of the only perks, apparently.” She touched one of the bandaged wounds on the crook of her arm, eyes far away. Probably back in that tack room.</p><p>Daniel cleared his throat, hoping to distract her from dwelling on memories like that. </p><p>“Well, I’ll need some help,” he said and picked up the spec pamphlet. “This seems...much more complicated than all of my old legs combined.”</p><p>Daisy’s head snapped up, breaking her out of her sad reverie as he’d hoped. She leaned forward and reached for the booklet in his hand. He handed it to her gratefully and she flipped through a few pages.</p><p>“Let’s see then,” she said after a moment. “I helped sometimes with Coulson and Yo-Yo but this model actually seems a bit different.”</p><p>Daniel cocked his head to the side, not sure if he’d heard her right. “What? Coulson and Agent Rodriguez?”</p><p>Daisy paused in her reading to look back at him. “Oh...I guess you wouldn’t know. Coulson--the real one before he died and became a robot--he had his hand chopped off by Mack a while ago. Yo-Yo lost both arms while we were fighting Hydra about two years ago, back in our time. They were outfitted by Fitzsimmons with super advanced prostheses. I normally wouldn’t have mentioned it but they’re both very open and vocal about their amputations...or were, in Coulson’s case.”</p><p>Daniel tried to school his expression into a non-reaction but he had a feeling he slightly failed based on how Daisy was scanning his face. So much of what she’d just said was knocking him for a loop. Then he suddenly remembered how easily Rodriguez had lifted the genny for Daisy’s healing pod earlier, trying to work out the logistics of it all. He was so busy thinking about Agent Rodriguez’ arms that it took a few seconds for the most absurd part of what Daisy had said to register. He looked up in belated shock.</p><p>“Director <em> Mack </em>cut off Coulson’s hand?”</p><p>Daisy broke into laughter and reached out to grab his forearm. </p><p>“You kinda had to be there,” she said. “I mean, I only know the whole thing from Coulson, Mack, and Fitz. Long story short, Coulson caught something that would have killed a bunch of people and it started killing him instead. Mack cut his hand off to stop it from spreading up his arm. Saved his life.”</p><p>Daniel shook his head. Every new story he heard about this team was more ludicrous than the last. The weight and history between them was clearly a contributing factor to how close knit they were. Less of a team, more of a family. Sometimes he wondered if he could ever truly become a part of them, having joined so late. They were very welcoming, none more so than Daisy, but he felt like he’d always be one step behind. More for their shared history than the fact that they were all from the future. He was reasonably intelligent, he liked to think. He could learn future tech and brush up on history and culture...but their bonds with each other? Those had been forged in battle long before he’d arrived. </p><p>Even before the War, he’d spent a lot of time being isolated from groups. As an only child, he’d found it difficult sometimes to socialize when he was younger. That had only gotten harder after coming back from Bastogne. Nearly everyone had treated him differently then, like a pariah or <em> worse </em>like a fragile teacup. It had made it challenging to connect with anyone outside other veterans. </p><p>The only times he’d truly felt like part of a team had been with his unit and for a short while during the end of his S.S.R. days after his coworkers had finally started to accept and respect him. Then the organization had been absorbed and re-branded as SHIELD, he’d been promoted, and the closeness he’d found with them was gone. He’d tried to replace it with Peggy but even that relationship had ended when work and dedication to their distant branches had gotten in the way. Over the last few years, Daniel had resigned himself to never feeling that sense of camaraderie again. Even more, he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want it, that his career would be enough. </p><p>Until recently.</p><p>He didn’t know exactly when he’d begun to want this so much. When he’d begun to want to be a part of <em> them </em>. Daniel looked at the woman beside him--she’d gone back to reading the spec pamphlet--and he wondered if maybe it was when he’d started to want her. Daisy, the team, the mission...they’d all awakened parts of him that Daniel thought had long since gone dormant. It hadn’t been until they’d swept him away that he’d realized exactly how...rote his life had become. How ordinary.</p><p>“You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them. “Part of the reason I took that simple courier mission for Howard was to break out of my routine. Shake things up. Security Chiefs don’t usually do that kind of thing.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Daisy said, pausing in her perusal of the pamphlet. The non sequitur didn’t seem to bother her.</p><p>“This team-” He cut himself off. </p><p>Daniel knew he wasn’t making any sense. He found it hard to articulate what he was feeling just then. He’d been at various moments antagonistic, resentful, lonely, confused, grateful, and excited since the moment he’d met them. How could he convey all of that in one conversation?</p><p>He settled on, “Thank you for inviting me into your family.”</p><p>She searched his face for a minute before jokingly saying, “Thank <em> you </em>for not holding it against us when we basically kidnapped you.” Then her eyes grew soft and she leaned forward to speak more seriously. “We’re all glad to have you here, Sousa.”</p><p>Daniel held her eyes with his. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, held back only by his sense of decorum and the complete inappropriateness of the situation. She’d spoken for the team but he couldn’t help but wonder how she herself felt. Was she happy just in a general teammate sense? Was it because he’d helped her with Malick? Or did she also feel this magnetism that was starting to consume his every thought when they were near each other?</p><p>He studied her face, drawn and a bit tired from the day’s turmoil, and he elected not to push. It was the wrong time and truth be told, Daniel wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer. After so long not expecting or hoping for anything, he didn’t think he could handle it if she rejected him right then. So he folded his thoughts back inside and diverted the conversation back to the case in front of him.</p><p>“Let’s see if we can’t figure this out,” he ventured, hoping his tone came off good-natured and not flustered.</p><p>She took the swing to the left in stride and held up the pamphlet. </p><p>“Well, it looks like the primary difference is that there is no implant part.”</p><p>“Implant?” He didn’t know if he liked the sound of that.</p><p>She leaned forward and showed him a page of the little booklet in her hands. There was a diagram detailing the socket part of the prosthetic leg he was about to try.</p><p>“Coulson had an implant that connected directly to his nerves or...brain or something. He described it to me once but basically when his hand was attached it sent a signal from his brain to whatever hand he had equipped to tell it what to do. He needed it because he and Fitz decided to trick out his hand with a bunch of different features like a laser and a shield or whatever.”</p><p>Daniel wasn’t sure what “trick out” exactly meant but he could guess from the context. His eyes involuntarily rolled at the idea. “Sounds like something Stark wanted to give me. I’ll pass.”</p><p>Daisy’s eyes twinkled in amusement and she continued, “Don’t worry. Simmons made you a more functional leg. It’s closer to Yo-Yo’s model which means it has basic prosthetic uses and no invasive or surgical requirements. Yours seems a little less robust than Yo-Yo’s arms, though, so no metal band to”--and she consulted the manual for a quote--“let’s see...‘provide advanced sensory and myoelectric control for digital extremities.’ Whatever that means.”</p><p>There were...a lot of things there that he didn’t quite understand but he let her continue without interruption.</p><p>She squinted at the pamphlet in her hand. “I’m not an expert but I think it means you’ll be able to control the leg just by the movement in your thigh but it won’t do anything too fancy that would be required for a hand or an arm. Looks like you’ll also be able to kick a hell of a lot stronger with it.”</p><p>She turned to a new page of the pamphlet and angled it towards him so he could read over the specs, seeing what she’d spoken in written form as well. </p><p>“Well, that’s a relief,” he murmured and took the booklet from her. </p><p>He paged through a bit more of it and found a directional section for training his residual limb for the new prosthesis and another section for maintenance of the leg. There were a lot of familiar phrases that reminded him of his own Stewart-Vickers model and he realized that not everything was different in the future.</p><p>The inner workings of the leg were <em> very </em>different, however. Some of it seemed to be about computers so he asked Daisy for clarification which she happily gave. Apparently the leg could be attached to one of her tiny computers with a wire in order to provide a report on the limb’s status. She asked him to bring over her computer and showed him what it meant, opening up a small compartment at the bottom of the case and pulling out a cable that she connected from the leg to her computer.</p><p>“Here we can do a number of tests and get a full diagnostic of the leg’s health,” she said after “downloading a driver.” It was a phrase which Daniel found completely indecipherable so he ignored it. </p><p>Eventually she turned the computer towards him. Charts and graphs scrolled across the screen. She pressed a few keys and suddenly the leg shifted as if muscles were moving underneath the skin. A few more keys and the toes wiggled. “It looks like once you’re actually wearing it, we can also use this program to get a read on how your body is responding to it.” </p><p>“Wow,” he said and set down the booklet, eyes focused on the moving leg. That word was simply not enough to describe how amazed he was by what he was seeing.</p><p>He’d been witness to a number of astonishing things since he’d joined Daisy’s team but this was something else altogether. The idea that this leg was a “basic” model but clearly was so advanced was mind boggling to him. He couldn’t even begin to picture what Coulson’s old hand had been like based on Daisy’s description.</p><p>She disconnected the cable from the leg and her computer then sat back in her chair. “Honestly, you’d be better off having this conversation with Yo-Yo or Simmons. They could help you much better than I can.”</p><p>Common sense told him that she was right but a part of him, the love-struck fool part, wanted to blurt out that he didn’t want to talk to anyone else, only her. He wrestled back the impulse to say something embarrassing and went with sensible instead.</p><p>“I’ll talk with them later,” he said somewhat dismissively. Definitely a more solid choice than what he’d wanted to say.</p><p>To distract himself from his inappropriate thoughts, he pulled out another chair, sat down, and began to roll up his right pant leg to expose his current prosthesis. It was awkward and unnecessarily cumbersome to do it that way but he didn’t want to leave the room to change and he certainly wasn’t going to drop his pants right there in front of Daisy. That would be even more embarrassing than his inner thoughts spilling out of his fool mouth.</p><p>“Well, let’s try it out,” he said and disengaged his Stewart-Vickers leg. He set it aside but before he could awkwardly turn to grab Simmons’ model, Daisy had pulled the new leg and the matching sock from the case and was leaning towards him.</p><p>“Let me,” she said and gestured forward as if she wanted to help him put the leg on.</p><p>Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. It was the most intimate and domestic thing he’d had someone offer for him in years, and she’d done it so effortlessly. Most of his flings usually tried their best to ignore his leg when they fooled around. Only one or two had been interested in his amputation and he’d quickly learned to weed out those for whom his leg was a curiosity or a fetish. The last time someone had been so casually accepting of his situation had been Peggy, and before her there’d only been Violet.</p><p>Daniel searched Daisy’s face, looking for a quirk of the eyebrow or a twist in the mouth that revealed some darker underbelly. There was nothing. Her open expression told him simply that she was being kind and helpful. She didn’t quite realize how much this was affecting him. Daniel licked his lips. </p><p>“Okay,” he said tentatively and hoped nothing betrayed his excitement. </p><p>His heart was pounding in his chest as she moved forward. She handed him the sock and he took it, replacing his old one with the new version. Daisy was looking down at the prosthesis in her hand as she worked to fit it on his stump. Daniel was grateful she was turned away. As a spy, he usually prided himself on his poker face but he knew his eyes were a little too wide and his cheeks were a little too red. If she’d been watching him then, she’d know instantly every single thought in his head. He was not quite ready to show her that.</p><p>Daisy cupped her hand below his upper thigh as she slid on the leg. Daniel felt his muscles spasm at the touch of her warm hand and his breath hitched a little. He closed his eyes and ran through every military drill, every SHIELD protocol, every catechism he’d learned as a child. Anything to chase away the unexpected arousal he was overcome with. It was near torturous but he somehow managed to last the five agonizing minutes necessary without humiliating them both. </p><p>Daisy secured the leg in place and sat back. The sudden movement distracted him and his eyes snapped open. Then he could only pay attention to the leg. The moment she’d finished, it seemed to come alive, tightening around his thigh though not painful or uncomfortable. He still jumped in shock and the leg flexed out without warning. Daisy scooted back sharply to avoid the abrupt kick. </p><p>“Whoa,” she said with a laugh. “Almost got me there.”</p><p>Daniel gasped and immediately relaxed his thigh. The leg relaxed in kind and settled into a bend in front of him. He tried hard not to move and set the thing off.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, voice a bit higher than he’d like. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that.”</p><p>The capabilities of the prosthesis astounded him even more now that he was wearing it. He’d barely moved his thigh and it had gone wild. He tried not to be overcome by the unfamiliarity of it all but he couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated. It was all such uncharted territory.</p><p>Daisy had reached back to study the pamphlet again, flipping through a few pages. “I think maybe we need to lower the sensitivity. At least until you get the hang of it.”</p><p>“Sure,” he murmured. His attention was locked on the leg. He reached out his fingers and lightly brushed them over the seam where the prosthetic leg ended and his thigh began. It was smooth. Not a perfect mesh. He could still feel the difference between the leg and his skin. There was a thin red line demarcating the synthetic and organic but it wasn’t overly noticeable. Daniel thought if someone wasn’t standing right next to him, they might not even see the difference.</p><p>Beside him, Daisy reached for the cable again and then bent down to the leg. She pressed aside the synthetic skin on the outside of the leg’s thigh to expose where the cable hooked into the prosthesis so that she could connect it to her computer. The screen lit up with charts again and she angled it so he could read it along with her.</p><p>“We’ll just lower it down to...70% to start, maybe? What do you think?”</p><p>He nodded. That was as good a guess as he would’ve had.</p><p>Her face looked more doubtful than he felt as she typed away at her keyboard. “Honestly, we really should have Simmons here. Promise me you’ll talk to her soon.”</p><p>Daniel smiled at the worry in her voice. “I promise.”</p><p>She didn’t look up to see him, too busy reading her computer screen. “Oh, let’s do a few of these diagnostics. There are some optimization guidelines. Try to move like you’re stretching out your leg...”</p><p>He followed her lead and they worked through some of the exercises laid out in the pamphlet and on her screen. He even walked around a little to help test the full range. Daisy adjusted the leg according to the suggestions by the computer. Apparently, based on the tests and the information from his body, the computer was able to tell her what settings worked best. She tried to explain it to him but the how of it was baffling to him. </p><p>The “what” was easier to understand, however. A number of the movement exercises were ones his prosthetist would take him through when he was fitted for a new leg or when he’d go in for an adjustment. The only difference was that the computer seemed to be able to analyze everything on its own. Daniel didn’t quite trust it, however, so he definitely resolved to meet with Agent Simmons in private later. For now, he would let Daisy help him as she seemed eager to do. It had certainly given him more time with her, which he couldn’t complain about.</p><p>Eventually, however, he could see Daisy growing tired. She even yawned at one point and her eyes drooped down. He immediately reached forward and touched her shoulder to stop her from running the next test.</p><p>“That’s enough,” he said softly. “I can do the rest with Agent Simmons.”</p><p>She sat back in her chair and nodded. She yawned again and Daniel felt a crush of guilt for keeping her up. He’d been so caught up in her company that he’d neglected his duty as her self-designated guard.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, distressed by his carelessness. “I shouldn’t have kept you up. You should be resting.”</p><p>She waved him off. “No, I wanted to. It’s been a good way to take my mind off of...everything.”</p><p>Her face grew dark, no doubt remembering what had happened less than two days before. He regretted that he’d contributed to making her remember any part of that. He pressed his lips together and reached forward to lay his hand on her forearm. </p><p>“Thank you for helping me,” he said, truly grateful for her hospitality. Not just with his leg but from the moment he’d been brought on board the Zephyr. She had been instrumental in making his transition as easy as it had been. He wouldn’t ever forget that.</p><p>She smiled wearily and moved to disconnect the leg from her tiny computer. She folded the computer like a book then returned the prosthetic cable to the case compartment it had come from. Daniel took the opportunity to roll down his pant leg and smooth out any wrinkles as best he could. He transferred his sock and shoe to the new leg, tying it tight and testing his leg now that he had a shoe on it. It still felt fantastic.</p><p>He stood again and the balance was a little different with the shoe. He’d found overall from the tests that the fit was not quite what it had been when he’d had both legs but also not what it had been with his Stewart-Vickers leg. It would take some getting used to but he was willing to try.</p><p>He hesitated for a moment then carefully bent the Stewart-Vickers a little and placed it in the case. He lowered the case’s lid slowly, snapping the fastenings in place with a wry smile on his face. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it. Just in case. </p><p>He slid his hand thoughtfully over the closed lid, took a deep breath, then spun to face Daisy. Her fatigue was written all over her expression and she was picking lightly at the bandages wrapping her arm.</p><p>“Let’s get you back in that pod,” he said gently. </p><p>He offered her his hand and to his delight she accepted it, gripping his fingers as she stood. She leaned on him for a few seconds then pulled away. She went to grab her computer but he rushed forward to pick it up instead. He took up his prosthetic case in his other hand and simply shrugged at her when she looked at him. Confusion rolled over her face but she said nothing before she turned and led the way back to the equipment room where the healing pod had been moved.</p><p>Daniel followed after her and the smooth gait from his new leg could only be described as “jaunty.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know the decision to give Sousa an upgraded sci-fi robo prosthesis which virtually erases his visible disability is...controversial at best, ableist at worst. </p><p>I wanted to write within the canon of the story while also going into more detail about what getting the new leg would actually mean for him personally and medically as a disabled person. I did my best to research but, as I mentioned before, I am not an amputee. If there is anything patently wrong or offensive let me know. I definitely will re-write for those kinds of changes/corrections.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next time Daniel woke it was to Daisy’s hand on his shoulder. His neck was sore from its awkward angle, he was a little cold from the chill air, and his entire left side was asleep. He was thankful for the extremely low lighting in the equipment area as it gave his eyes an easier chance to adjust to the sight of Daisy.</p><p>She was leaning over him, still wearing the clothes she’d gone to sleep in: black cotton shirt and comfortable pants. Her hair was a bit more full and her complexion was no longer sallow. Healthier than he’d seen her in days. Her expression, on the other hand, told a different story.</p><p>“What’s wrong,” he asked immediately, voice heavy from disuse while he’d been asleep. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What happened?”</p><p>He could tell she’d been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face was shiny, and her mouth was tight. He could feel her hand shaking a little on his shoulder.</p><p>“A lot,” she said softly and sat down in front of him on a chair that she’d pulled up close.</p><p>Daniel sat up in his chair as she spoke, revealing the extraordinary and tragic events she’d experienced while he’d been sleeping. He was familiar with the concept of a “time loop” as she called it. <em> The Shadow </em> had been incredibly well received when he’d been in college and “The Man Who Murdered Time” had also been one of his favorite stories from the radio play. He never imagined he’d be living it out. Or not living it out, in his case, since he couldn’t remember it.</p><p>Daisy was looking down at her hands now, her fingers were laced so tightly together that the blood had fled from her fingertips. </p><p>“...and he just ripped out his heart,” she finished softly, looking back up at him. “He saved us.”</p><p>Daisy’s face was filled with pain and guilt. There was determination there, too. A hardness that came from loss. Daniel knew well that look. That feeling of a comrade dying for you. He saw it sometimes in the mirror when memories came bubbling to the surface of Mike Stephens and dozens of others.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said. It wasn’t enough, nothing ever could be, but it was all he had. “He was a good person. I wish I could’ve known him better.”</p><p>Daniel had known the Chronicom for even fewer days than he’d known Daisy. The only Chronicom they weren’t fighting and who wasn’t trying to kill them. Daniel didn’t know the full circumstances that had led to Enoch becoming a part of the team but anyone could see that he was a part of the family. A trusted friend. He had sometimes said some strange things but he’d always been very kind to Daniel. Learning that he’d sacrificed his own life so that the rest of them could live was deeply sobering. </p><p>Daniel leaned forward slowly so as not to surprise her and gently cupped her clenched hands with his own. She relaxed almost immediately and her hands came unlaced enough for him to hold.</p><p>“His death won’t be in vain. We’ll make sure of it,” he offered carefully.</p><p>Daisy gave a pinched smile, took a deep breath, and nodded sharply. Her right hand pulled away from him and came up to wipe at her eye though he didn’t see any tears falling. </p><p>“Do you need any help? With the body or with anything else,” he asked, hoping to lighten at least some of her load. He could at least do that.</p><p>She let out a wet laugh. “Every time, huh?”</p><p>Daniel’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. He went to ask her what she’d meant but she waved it away with a short gesture and he let his curiosity fade.</p><p>“Never mind. No, that’s okay. Deke and Simmons wanted to handle it. They knew him better than all of us.”</p><p>“Will there be some kind of...service? Do Chronicoms have funerals?” he wondered suddenly. </p><p>“I actually...don’t know,” she said and frowned.</p><p>“No, they don’t,” said a voice from behind him and Daisy’s head snapped to the side to look over his shoulder. He craned around to see the sudden interruption.</p><p>Agent Coulson was standing in the hatchway from the equipment room into the corridor. He was wearing his usual suit, more fitted than what was normal for Daniel’s time but familiar. Daniel made a mental note to ask him for help with filling out his wardrobe again. Daniel didn’t mind the slacks and button down he wore but if he was really going to stay in the future, he’d need more than that. He also could admit that he was missing the feel of a fine suit. </p><p>“Coulson,” Daisy said in surprise. </p><p>“Sorry to interrupt you two but Simmons and Deke need something to help with repairs.”</p><p>Coulson passed by Daniel and moved over to a shelving rack behind Daisy that was filled with a number of gray cases and silver boxes. He reached up high to undo the latch that held one of the cases in place and pulled it down from the shelf. Daniel had learned from Agent May that the shelving was made specifically to help prevent the items from being tossed around while the Zephyr performed hard maneuvers. There’d been similar storage setups in plenty of the cargo planes he’d ridden back in his time but Daniel had a feeling the Zephyr had more need for the precaution than any of those. Certainly his recent experiences aboard the plane lent weight to that theory.</p><p>Coulson set the case on his raised knee and opened it. Inside was a row of neatly lined mechanical components. They looked to Daniel like some kind of large, futuristic transistor. Coulson removed one of them then put the storage case back on its shelf. When Sousa thought he’d move towards the door again, Coulson instead stayed by the shelves. He was looking down, fondling the mechanism.</p><p>“He might want one, actually,” Coulson suddenly said. His eyes never left the doodad in his hand. “Chronicoms don’t really have funerals. They just, sort of, copy themselves back to a digital mainframe and re-download their consciousness after it’s upgraded. But the mainframe was destroyed with Chronyca-2.”</p><p>Daisy moved in her chair across from Daniel, turning sideways to face Coulson without getting up. </p><p>“Unless they’re decommissioned, of course,” he continued and finally looked at them. “In that case, their consciousness is treated like an infected hard drive: shutdown, examined for malfunctions, and purged of all data that is not useful for future Chronicom builds. Then the personality data that <em> is </em>useful to the Chronicoms gets fragmented and uploaded back to the mainframe for the future. But they don’t really consider that death or commemorate it in any way.”</p><p>Daniel blinked slowly. Nothing that Coulson had just said made any sense to him. It seemed to him like a bunch of unrelated words mashed together. He’d thought he had gotten a better handle on most of the future tech used on the Zephyr but clearly he hadn’t even scratched the surface.</p><p>Daisy shook her head. “How do you even know all this?”</p><p>Coulson shrugged.</p><p>“Loop 83,” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t remember it, Daisy, since you died after.”</p><p>Daisy nodded and set her arm on the back of the chair. Coulson leaned back on the shelf, his hands dropping to his front with the transistor in his hand.</p><p>“It was a real...it was a tough loop. You’d just died again--pretty early on, actually--and I...sat and talked with Enoch about Sibyl while I waited for the reset. Something she said to me. That Chronicoms can’t die. I wanted to get Enoch’s opinion.”</p><p>Daniel’s brows drew down. The time storm again. Hearing about Daisy and the others, even himself, dying in some time travel crisis, doomed to repeat the same half an hour over and over. It sounded like something out of a Greek tragedy. A Promethean curse laid down by the gods to punish a mortal man for defying them. He couldn’t stomach even the idea of watching his teammates die repeatedly with him helpless to do anything yet remembering every moment. It sounded horrifying.</p><p>He examined the other two across from him, both of them in profile and both looking at the other in deep contemplation. There was a heaviness to them both now. There had been a shadow over Daisy’s face as she’d told him the tale of the time loops and he recognized the same weight on Coulson too. They had experienced something extraordinary, just the two of them. Perhaps it was even life changing for them. </p><p>Daisy bit her lip and Daniel could see her eyes watering a little. She finally ventured, “I think...Enoch would really like a memorial. Just like any other living thing.”</p><p>A tear fell from the corner of her eye. Daniel started to move but Coulson beat him to it and stroked a finger under Daisy’s left eye then again on the opposite side. His hand slid forward then and cupped Daisy's cheek. Daisy raised her own hand and pressed it to where Coulson was cradling her face. Her eyes closed and her face softened in a way Daniel had never seen before but he didn’t see any more tears fall. </p><p>Daniel shifted a little in his seat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with witnessing such an intimate interaction. </p><p>Daniel hadn’t spent much time with Coulson after their investigation together at the bar in ‘73. Since then he’d been briefed about Coulson being a robot duplicate of a real person who had died but he hadn’t really gotten the skinny about who Coulson had been in life. There was no time to have long discussions about the team’s past so Daniel mostly absorbed information piecemeal through context. He was an investigator at heart so he didn’t exactly mind having to put the clues together. He sometimes wished, however, he could read a few dossiers left on his desk, so to speak.</p><p>He’d had a vague understanding that Daisy considered Agent Coulson a type of father figure. She’d joked as much the second day Daniel had worked with the team on the way into the Krazy Kanoe. It wasn’t until that moment watching him comfort her that Daniel understood that it was more than a simple lark. </p><p>Eventually Coulson pulled away and Daisy sat up straighter in the chair. Then she frowned.</p><p>“Wait, when did you talk with Sibyl?” she asked.</p><p>Coulson looked surprised. “Oh, right...you wouldn’t remember that either. While you two were kidnapped, Sibyl and I had a chat while I was infiltrating the Lighthouse.”</p><p>Daisy chuckled for reasons that Daniel didn’t quite understand. The puzzled look on Coulson’s face told him that he wasn’t alone in that confusion.</p><p>“Did she give you a whole speech too,” Daisy asked, still laughing.</p><p>Coulson finally echoed her smile. “She did, actually. I hero speech-ed her right back and then I blew her up. It was pretty epic.”</p><p>Daisy’s laugh came again and Coulson joined her. Daniel was happy to see them be a little lighter than they had been earlier. Grief was a hard thing to navigate normally but in these circumstances, among spie like them it was even harder to confront sometimes. Their jobs often called for people like them to suppress a lot of things to get the mission done. He was no stranger to that. His psychotherapist at the VA clinic during his rehabilitation had called it his favorite “coping mechanism.” It had taken him years to understand what that meant for him...to move past it. </p><p>Daniel watched the two agents laugh in the midst of their pain and thought it was good for them to have each other during this time. Sometimes the company was all you needed. Before he knew it, their laughter had become infectious and a grin began to tug at the side of his mouth.</p><p>“What’s the big tickle?” he wondered, smiling with them but not quite understanding.</p><p>Daisy and Coulson paused then turned to him almost simultaneously. Coulson’s mouth was gaping in what Daniel presumed was shock while Daisy’s nose scrunched up into a button.</p><p>Daniel glanced back and forth between the two of them. “What?” he asked, bewildered.</p><p>Daisy burst into laughter even harder than before. She leaned away from Coulson to put her hand on Daniel’s forearm. “Never change, Sousa,” she said and rubbed her hand on his arm affectionately. Daniel had to stop himself from laying his own on top of hers.  Not with practically <em>her father</em> standing there.</p><p>Coulson shook his head and moved past Daniel toward the hatchway. “I’ll tell the others about the memorial idea. Daisy, come on up once you’re ready. And maybe...shower before you do. Just a suggestion.”</p><p>Daisy gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I smell?”</p><p>“I’m not <em> not </em>saying it.” Then Coulson disappeared down the corridor with the transistor, presumably to see to time engine repairs.</p><p>When Daniel turned back around, he found Daisy had composed herself. She stood from her chair and moved it back to its place beside the shelves. She stepped closer to him and he leaned his head back to keep his eyes on her face. Her hair fell in waves to her shoulders, her eyes were fresh shot from crying, and her cheeks were red from laughter.</p><p>“Come on,” she said, waving him up from his seat. “Since I know you want to follow me anyway.” </p><p>“What does that mean,” he asked but, as he had come to expect from her, she evaded answering with a cryptic grin and walked from the room. </p><p>Daniel scrambled to follow after her, his new leg was twinging a little at the sudden move and his left side was still tingling from falling asleep in the terrible position he’d adopted in the chair. Daisy strode through the plane confidently and he realized she was headed toward the crew rest. </p><p>She stopped four doors down from his own bunk and disappeared inside, leaving the sliding door open apparently for him. He hesitated at the entrance then took a tentative step over the threshold. </p><p>“Sit,” she said and went to a wall panel which he knew from his own room opened into a small closet and a few drawers.</p><p>Her room, however, was larger than his. No doubt that was due to her seniority on the Zephyr. She had enough room for not just a bunk and nightstand like his but also a small work desk on which sat her portable computer, a bolted down light, and a number of framed photographs. On the left of the desk beneath the lamp were two hula girl dolls.</p><p>Daniel sat on the desk chair, thankful that he didn’t have to awkwardly sit on her bed while she rummaged in her closet for clothing. The pictures on the desk were of the teammates he knew plus a few other faces he wasn’t familiar with. He supposed they could’ve been other teammates that weren’t on the time travel mission or perhaps ones she’d lost. Maybe some pictures were of her non-SHIELD family although he had no idea if she had any still around. The way everyone had spoken about Jiaying, he got the feeling she wasn’t alive any more in Daisy’s time.</p><p>Daniel supposed he didn’t know much about Daisy outside of who she was on mission and who she was on the team. Her true history, her life back in her time, her hopes for the future...how she got her power even, they were all a mystery. He’d wanted to ask many times before but it had never seemed the right time. Always some threat that needed handling or some new trauma they had to endure. </p><p>Daisy and the others had known so much about him based on the history books alone. Although some of it was a little skewed or missing pieces, most of what they’d told him had been accurate. Daisy in particular had been spot on during their first meeting in his old office. It had both impressed and unnerved him to have his life recited back to him but it had been the very thing that had made him trust her. After talking about Mike Stephens to her and her helping with the prosthetic fitting the day before, Daniel felt like he’d laid himself bare in front of Daisy on a level he’d never done with anyone else. Yet he knew nothing of non-agent Daisy outside of a few anecdotes here and there. </p><p>He watched her lay out a number of bottles on a towel on the bed and made the decision.</p><p>“What’re these,” he said and touched one of the hula girls’ bases with a finger. He wanted to start with something light.</p><p>Daisy turned to him and her eyes zeroed in on where he was pointing.</p><p>“Oh, those. They’re--” She paused and moved to the desk. Her hand framed the doll next to the one he was touching. “Memories, I guess.”</p><p>She picked one up and flicked a finger across the doll’s head, making her torso wobble and her green skirt sway. </p><p>“This one was my father’s,” she continued. “The other one I had from before I started at SHIELD. I met my father for the first time in my twenties and we discovered that we shared these in common.”</p><p>She set her hula girl back down, moving them both closer to each other as she did. Daniel examined them while she talked. One had a long skirt and the other a short one. Both were carrying ukuleles. They wobbled together as she moved them into position beneath the lamp.</p><p>When he looked up, Daisy was staring hard at the two dolls. She kept speaking so he just listened.</p><p>“My father, Cal, he uh- he was a complicated person.”</p><p>“Is he...did he pass?”</p><p>She smiled sadly. “No. But I can’t see him anymore, or rather he can’t see me.” </p><p>He frowned at her and she finally looked at him, catching his eyes. </p><p>“He doesn’t remember me. He had his memory, his whole personality, wiped. I did it to help him...move forward and be better than he was. I went back to his office to get this after I- after it was done. To help me remember, even if he didn’t.”</p><p>His mouth grew dry and his eyes went wide. He knew such a thing was possible. Samberly’s memory inhibitor came to mind. But that was a temporary thing. Daisy was talking about something all too permanent. To have your entire identity erased from your own mind...it sounded like hell to him.</p><p>If he was looking to keep the conversation light, it seemed picking the hula girls had missed that mark entirely.</p><p>Daisy shrugged almost helplessly. “After everything that’s happened with the Chronicoms and with Coulson’s L.M.D. I don’t know if it was the right choice anymore. But it’s too late now to go back. Despite the time machine.”</p><p>Daniel was reminded of their conversation when he’d first come aboard. She’d confessed to him that she had regrets she’d wanted to put right with the team’s time travel. At the time he’d thought she’d been speaking about mission failures or maybe something more general. She’d spoken of the world’s mistakes after all. Now he understood she had more personal reasons for wanting to change the past.</p><p>“There are things I’d do anything to change,” he finally told her after a long silence. “But sometimes you have to just live with the consequences.”</p><p>She smiled again, sadder and more forlorn than before. “Yeah, that you do,” she said and bounced a hula girl again.</p><p>He pursed his lips a little, then continued. “I’m sorry about your father.”</p><p>She shrugged again. “It was a while ago. At least I know he’s out...he’s safe.”</p><p>The “from me” was almost tangible in the air and Daniel felt his chest squeeze tight. </p><p>“If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” he said. He didn’t know what he could offer that was any different than her teammates but he had to offer something. She was in pain and he couldn’t bear to see it and do nothing.</p><p>“As you always are,” she said and started to go back to the clothes laid out on the bed.</p><p>There it was again. She’d said something similar in the equipment room.</p><p>“What does that mean? You said almost the same thing earlier.”</p><p>She paused as she went to shut the closet door. </p><p>“I- Nothing. It’s just a time loop joke,” she said and angled her face away from him. “Thank you, Sousa.”</p><p>Daniel bit his lip. His eyes were trained on her half-turned face and he saw the moment when Daisy pulled away from the conversation. Uncomfortable or disinterested, he wasn’t sure. He debated pressing further but, again, it didn’t seem the right move. So he let it go. If she didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to be a nag.</p><p>He sighed and stood, getting the message. “Well, I’ll go see if the others need anything...held or illuminated with a flashlight.”</p><p>Who was he kidding? He had almost no chance of understanding how to fix the time drive or repair the Zephyr but suddenly he had a need to be out of the small enclosed space of Daisy’s room and that was as good of an excuse as any.</p><p>“I’ll see you in the command center,” he finished. He was halfway out of there when her hand appeared in his periphery keeping the sliding door to her room from closing.</p><p>“Sousa,” she said and he turned to face her. Her eyes were shining in the glow of the lights from the corridor. “We really are glad to have you here. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been a lot of help.”</p><p>“Thank you for saying that,” he told her honestly. </p><p>He saw her study his face for a minute longer, her mouth opening as if she were going to say something meaningful or heartfelt. Then her lips pressed together and all she said was, “I’ll see you upstairs, Sousa.”</p><p>That was that. He turned and walked away, feeling somehow that he’d bungled something important but not quite knowing what it was or how to get back on track.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Zephyr approached the Lighthouse about two hours after they finished the memorial for Enoch. At the short service Daniel had stood silent behind everyone else as they all exchanged words and memories of the Chronicom for the others to hear. </p><p>There’d been Deke who had spoken of <em> another </em> Enoch who’d also sacrificed himself to save the team. Simmons who’d spoken of when Enoch helped her and her husband on another planet-which had made Daniel a little overwhelmed, hearing that this team had been to other planets not to mention there being talk of another Enoch. Coulson had more stories from the various time loops he’d experienced such as when Enoch had taught Coulson <em> hran-fir </em>, which he explained was some type of alien board game.</p><p>Daisy hadn’t said much during the service. As the plane was approaching the Lighthouse later, she told Daniel that she hadn’t known Enoch well and that she’d wanted to give the others more space to mourn.</p><p>“You need to mourn too,” he told her when she said so. Daniel was back at the same desk chair in her bunk, watching her pack a bag. </p><p>“They needed it more,” she said lightly, as if it wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing he’d heard in days.</p><p>He’d noticed that. That is, Daisy’s tendency to put everything and everyone else ahead of her own wellbeing. It was...concerning at times. Unfortunately, it was also not something she felt comfortable being challenged on. He’d noticed that, as well.</p><p>“I don’t know if that’s true,” Daniel replied about her own state of grief. He crossed his arms, remembering the red of her eyes and the almost shocked tremor in her voice when she’d told Daniel about Enoch’s death the day before. </p><p>She paused in her packing to give him a withering look.</p><p>Well...even though she didn't <em>like</em> to be challenged on her sacrificial tendencies, didn't mean he wouldn't do it. Someone had to. Still, at her glare he raised his hands in the air and told her, “Alright, alright. I’ll take your word for it.”</p><p>Daisy huffed as if she didn’t believe him and went back to packing.</p><p>Daniel was starting to get the hang of Daisy’s moods. He felt a bit better about knowing when she needed a push and when she needed to be left alone. It was actually at Enoch’s memorial watching her slink around the edges of the group observant yet not speaking much herself, that he’d realized how much she was like a cat. She only gave her affections to a select, worthy few and you weren’t allowed to get close until she was good and ready or you’d get scratched. Lots of people have the misconception that cats were distant or cold but they weren’t. They were just as deeply empathetic as dogs, but more wary of being hurt. Daniel, luckily, was a natural cat person.</p><p>Daisy had moved on to packing weapons. She pulled a couple of futuristic pistols from a rack in her closet and checked them before slotting them un-loaded in some kind of holster and placing them in a side compartment of her bag. He’d not known she even carried them given her superpowers but it seemed that she did have need for a piece after all. He wouldn’t complain about the extra firepower. He had a feeling they would need it once they landed at the base. His experience so far with this team had practically guaranteed it.</p><p>Once they’d cleared the “time storm,” the time travel clock had not started up again. One more malfunction in the faulty time ship Daniel had hitched his wagon to. Daniel didn’t know the details but based on what the scientists had reported to Director Mackenzie, the man had decided to ground the ship at their base of operations and move everyone non-essential off of the plane while they tried to figure things out. It was a bit of a gamble but the Director had explained that he’d rather they not risk the entire team getting “erased from existence” if the Zephyr disappeared into a time storm again. Daniel could appreciate that kind of caution so he’d quickly packed his bag and headed over to Daisy’s room in case she needed help. She’d stubbornly insisted that she didn’t need any help at all but she’d also allowed him to stay with her to wait. He'd take what he could get.</p><p>Agent May’s voice came over the intercom and gave them a landing time of ten minutes. Daisy cursed and hurriedly finished her weapons checks, ending with slotting a knife onto a belt holster. She pulled on a leather jacket with plenty of silver zippers and closed her bag, moving to throw it over her shoulder.</p><p>“Wait,” he said and reached out. He turned to point at the desk behind him. “Don’t you want to take these?”</p><p>The hula girls were still under her desk lamp, shaking in the early morning light. Daisy paused and frowned, considering.</p><p>“In case the plane blinks out of existence. Better to have them on you, I'm thinking,” he finished and picked them up to hand to her.</p><p>She hesitated for a second but took them from him.</p><p>“Maybe you’re right,” she mumbled and opened another side pocket on her bag, gently placing the dolls inside.</p><p>He stood with her, his own bag was at his feet so he lifted it to hang off his shoulder and followed Daisy from the room. The plane’s hallways were buzzing with activity as they made their way aft. The team was preparing for possibly anything.</p><p>The Zephyr landed shortly after they reached Agent Simmons in the cargo hold. The other agent needed assistance moving some equipment from the plane to the Lighthouse so he and Daisy volunteered to help while the others completed their own duties.</p><p>Last time he’d been to the Lighthouse base, he had seen a dirty alleyway for all of thirty minutes before he’d been kidnapped by Malick. Inside the installation was quite different. Walking through the maze of hallways inside the Lighthouse left Daniel truly breathless. The utilitarian design and gray walls were achingly familiar to the government facilities he was used to but the stark color was where the similarities ended. </p><p>The Lighthouse was massive and filled with mechanical workings he could barely keep up with as they quickly walked past them through the command center and down to the lower levels. Shockingly the sub-basements seemed to just keep going. Daniel saw at least thirty-five levels indicated in the elevator as they descended to the science labs on Sub-12. It was the kind of base one would expect from a Fleming novel. </p><p>It was even more amazing to be told that Daisy and her team still used the base in their time forty years into the future and that Shaw had lived there seventy more years <em> after </em> then<em>. </em>Daniel had learned the man came from the far flung future during the memorial service when he’d spoken about first meeting Enoch. Apparently, the Lighthouse had been the last bastion of the human race in an “aborted timeline” controlled by a different alien species than the ones they were fighting in their current mission. Over a hundred years into the future and the Lighthouse was still a functioning base. Daniel found it incredible.</p><p>Daisy and Agent Simmons were less enthused than he and made their distaste well known. When the two began to talk time travel physics, he decided to beat a hasty retreat. He’d not gotten nearly enough sleep the night before and he was overwhelmed and exhausted. Daisy pointed him toward the sleeping quarters and he took himself plus her bag to the bunks.</p><p>He set Daisy’s bag in a room across from the one he picked, stopping only long enough to dust off and uncover some of the furniture for her. He did the same for his own room. By the time he finished cleaning, he was bone tired. He undressed, disengaged his new leg, and fell back onto the bed in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He was out a few minutes later.</p><p>***</p><p>A hard knock on heavy metal woke Daniel. He jerked up, heart pounding in his chest. The clock next to him informed him he’d barely slept even two hours since they’d landed at the base. His mouth was dry and his eyelids felt like they had lead weights on them.</p><p>The knock came again. “Sousa, wake up!” It was Agent Rodriguez’ voice.</p><p>Daniel groaned and rubbed at his face. “One second,” he called out and swung his leg over the side of the bed. His prosthetic leg was on a chair next to him and he re-attached the limb sluggishly then scrambled to get his pants on.</p><p>He stumbled barefoot to the door and it took two tries to get the knob. He opened the door to find the other agent standing with arms crossed over her chest.</p><p>“Sorry but we’ve got a situation and you didn’t have a radio,” she said. “Mack wants you in the hangar bay as soon as possible.”</p><p>Daniel straightened, his mind racing at the possibilities. “Trouble?”</p><p>Rodriguez shrugged. “When isn’t there? You remember the way?”</p><p>He nodded his assurance. </p><p>“Good,” she said. “Get to the Zephyr and Mack will tell you everything. I’ll meet you both there. I have something to take care of first.”</p><p>She turned like she was going to walk away and he swung the metal door as if to close it. Before it shut completely he felt a gust of wind like someone opened a window but when he looked back out into the corridor there was nothing and Rodriguez was gone. Daniel’s frowned. He knew intellectually that Rodriguez had the ability to super speed but he’d never seen it in action. Maybe one day.</p><p>He closed the door and finished dressing then finally left the room. The base was empty the entire way to the hangar bay. It was also dimly lit, no doubt to conserve power. The walk wasn’t exactly quiet, however. There were old creaks and whines of metal, distant clanging as pipes settled after years of disuse. If Daniel spooked easily, his heart would’ve been permanently in his throat by the time he made it to the Director.</p><p>When he stepped through the door to the hangar bay where the Zephyr was docked, he found that Rodriguez had beat him there and was already helping the Director at some equipment modules near where the Zephyr’s ramp was lowered for boarding.</p><p>“Director,” Daniel called out as he approached. The taller man stood from where he’d been crouched next to a crate.</p><p>“Agent Sousa-” Mack stopped his greeting and turned to Agent Rodriguez. “Start pre-flight and check the levels.”</p><p>“I remember how to prep for a mission, Director,” Rodriguez said back to him. </p><p>She was smiling as she spoke. Daniel took that as her teasing the Director for some past joke he didn’t understand. She was a hard one to read, after all. Mack gave her an equally unreadable look and handed a small box to her when she came close. The other agent took it into the Zephyr and presumably to the quinjet.</p><p>“You’ve got a mission for me, sir?” Daniel asked slowly, mind still a little caught on whatever interpersonal moment he’d just witnessed.</p><p>The Director hummed. “Of sorts. Agents Rodriguez, Coulson, and I will be leaving in a half an hour to assist with retaking the Afterlife compound that Nathaniel Malick has made his stronghold. I need you, May, and Daisy to stay here with the Inhuman leader, Jiaying, and keep her safe. Agents Simmons and Shaw will continue working on the Zephyr’s repairs.”</p><p>Daniel’s head tilted. “Jiaying? Daisy’s mother?”</p><p>Mack raised an eyebrow. “She’s here. Now that we’re stuck in this time for the foreseeable future, we're going to try to stop Nathaniel here and now before he ruins the timeline even more. Jiaying says he is hunting her and she's only just managed to stay ahead of him without us. It is imperative that Jiaying stay safe. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.”</p><p>He didn’t. If Jiaying died now Daisy would never be born. Daniel tried to imagine a world without her and found that his heart leapt into his throat at the idea in a way that it never budged when he’d been walking through the dark and dank corridors of the base. He couldn’t even fathom it. He had some small idea of what she meant to the future and a more intimate idea of what she’d come to mean to him. He’d be dead if she had never come into his life, let alone how much he’d begun to care for her outside of the stakes of life and death. His skin crawled at the very thought.</p><p>“Not a problem,” he said without discussing his full musings. His voice felt heavy with purpose, even to him, so he wasn't sure how well he was masking his emotions.</p><p>“The mission will take approximately eight to ten hours. We’ll be off as soon as the quinjet is prepped.” Mack then turned to a crate adjacent to the one he’d been working in when Daniel first arrived. He lifted the lid and gestured inside. “Arm yourself with whatever you need. Unlike our enemy, we can’t predict what they will do. You should be ready in case of anything.”</p><p>Daniel nodded sharply and stepped forward while the other man went back to his work. Inside the crate were a few sections of disassembled weapons including pistols and rifles, most of which were more advanced than his usual firearm. On the left hand side of the crate were a number of holsters as well. Daniel chose a simple handgun. The same Smith &amp; Wesson model he’d used for the mission in the 70s since he was already familiar with it. He chose a side holster to accompany it and took a few compatible magazines. </p><p>“Do you need any help before you leave, sir?” he asked as the Director was just coming back off of the Zephyr. Mack had an envelope in his hand and a chagrined look on his face.</p><p>“Yes, actually-” Mack paused then sighed. “Not to send you on a milk run but…”</p><p>“-But you need me to go on a milk run.”</p><p>Mack grimaced. “Yes.”</p><p>Daniel smiled a little. It wasn’t his first time as the rookie. He knew the score. He’d actually come to appreciate the small errands the team put to him. They were giving him an opportunity to learn more about the future. Since he was consigned to spend the rest of his life there, he might as well get to know it.</p><p>“It’ll give me a chance to see the sights,” he said honestly. “So, what do I need to buy?”</p><p>“We need to provision for a longer stay, just in case. Until Simmons and Deke can get the time drive functional again, we have to operate as if we’ll be stranded here indefinitely. The Lighthouse is built to sustain us for decades, if need be, but I’d rather we not disturb this place more than we have to in order to preserve the timeline. We’re already pulling a lot of fuel for the Zephyr and quinjet as it is. At least with the food, we can supplement from the town.”</p><p>“Do you think it can be preserved still,” Daniel asked and took the envelope when it was handed to him. “Seems like a pipe dream now.”</p><p>Director Mack sighed. “You’re not wrong there. Still, we have to do what we can.”</p><p>Daniel hummed but didn’t contradict the man. In his opinion, it was a lost cause. There was no turning back now. From his own miraculous rescue to Nathaniel and the Chronicoms’ meddling, the whole timeline seemed screwed to him. Someone had to hope, he guessed, so he let it go for now.</p><p>Daniel turned back to the envelope in his hand. Inside was money and a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper to find a list. He paused at one item, marked down to be purchased for three gallons. “Wow, it’s an <em> actual </em>milk run.”</p><p>Mack shrugged. “Blame Deke’s newfound zeal for Cocoa Puffs.”</p><p>Daniel’s mouth curled. The other time displaced agent had changed greatly since his last time stuck in the 80s with the Director. From his constant use of his portable music radio to his obnoxious cologne so strong it could take out an ox. Daniel sometimes struggled to understand the man.</p><p>Daniel looked at Mack. The Director had come back changed as well, but he seemed more centered and focused. No longer weighed down by the tragedy of his parents' deaths. He was dedicated to doing as much good as possible for both the present and the future. Director Mackenzie was rapidly revealing himself to be the kind of leader Daniel truly admired. He could really see himself following such a man. Which was good since that looked like it would be the only future available to him. He would’ve hated being stuck with a leader he despised.</p><p>Daniel shook his head to clear his wandering thoughts. “I’ll get it done.” </p><p>“The south exit will let you out just off of Main Street.” Mack pointed to the paper in Daniel’s hand. “There’s a small map on the back of that plus the code to the Lighthouse door. There’s also a truck and a cart for carrying whatever you buy waiting in the alley where you’ll emerge. Here are the keys.”</p><p>Daniel raised the paper in the air briefly then tucked it in his back pocket. He took the keys from Mack’s hand as well and placed them in his other pocket.</p><p>“Any new developments in automobiles I should be aware of?” It would be just his luck that he’d get a car he had no idea how to operate.</p><p>Mack shook his head. “You managed alright with Malick’s truck. The mechanics are the same as they were in the 70s just a little smaller.”</p><p>Daniel nodded and said, “If I don’t get back before you leave...good luck on your mission, Director.”</p><p>He held out his hand to the Director and Mack shook it firmly.</p><p>***</p><p>The trip into town was relatively simple. Daniel didn’t encounter any robots or get lost. Nothing truly terrible happened. </p><p>He did, however, get a full taste of the 1980s. Vibrant, colorful pants. Hair frazzled and curled. He couldn’t walk more than two feet without hearing the same scratching, squealing music Shaw was now obsessed with. And for some reason, one of the more enduring fashion choices left over from the War were aviator sunglasses.</p><p>It was a new experience, to say the least.</p><p>When he returned to the base, the quinjet was indeed gone. The hangar was empty as well though Daniel knew Agents Simmons and Shaw were likely on the Zephyr still working on repairs. That left Agent May, Daisy, and Jiaying wandering somewhere else in the base.</p><p>Daniel was wheeling a cart of the provisions he’d just bought through the hangar before he realized he had no idea where the base’s mess hall and kitchen were located. So he left the cart near the inner entrance of the hangar and left in search of someone to ask. He went onto the Zephyr hoping to find Simmons or Shaw but discovered that his earlier assumption was wrong and neither were on the massive plane. There was, however, an HT radio which he grabbed on his way back to the cart of purchased goods.</p><p>“Hello, is anyone there,” he asked into the device. “Does anybody copy?”</p><p>The static of the radio was loud in the empty hangar.</p><p>After a couple of minutes of nothing, May’s voice finally broke through. “Copy that. What do you need, Agent Sousa?”</p><p>“Director Mack sent me to buy some provisions. I need assistance getting them to the kitchens. I couldn’t find Agents Simmons or Shaw on the plane.”</p><p>“They left a short while ago to get some parts. Where are you?”</p><p>“Still inside the hangar.”</p><p>“I’ll be down in five. Over.”</p><p>“Over,” he replied and then the radio went silent.</p><p>The five minute wait went quickly and before he knew it he heard Agent May’s booted footsteps approaching from the hallway. She turned a corner quickly, stopped at the other end of the hall and jerked her head to tell him to follow. He hurriedly pushed the cart to catch up to her as she’d already turned to lead the way. The rest of the walk to the kitchens was almost aggressively quiet save for the squeaking wheel of the cart he was pushing. They entered one of the service elevators and went back down to Sub-12. </p><p>“There’s a larger kitchen two levels down but we’ll use the auxiliary on this floor instead. We shouldn’t need it for too long and it’ll be easier to maintain.”</p><p>May led him to a small dining room on the opposite side of the housing corridor to the small lab Daisy and Simmons had first shown him. The small mess hall was dark and empty. Chairs were stacked against the walls and covered in cloth along with the steel circle tables peppering the room. At the other end of the mess hall was a swing door to what he assumed was the kitchen.</p><p>“The Director fears we may be here longer than expected,” he replied.</p><p>“I hope not,” May said quickly and swung open the kitchen door to a darkened room, holding it for him to roll the cart through. “I hated the 80s.”</p><p>She flicked a switch on the wall once he'd passed by her and the room lit up, lights flickering at first before stabilizing. The surfaces inside the kitchen were covered in dust but everything had been neatly packed away as if it had been formally cleaned a long time ago and then utterly forgotten about. </p><p>“We’ll need to clean first,” May sighed. She took off her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her cotton shirt underneath. “The refrigerator should be cold. Agent Glass had the power running for a few hours before we landed.”</p><p>Daniel pushed the cart of food towards the large industrial sized refrigerator May had pointed out. The racks inside were much cleaner than the rest of the kitchen and as May had voiced it was nice and cool. May appeared next to him with a cloth rag in her hand. Daniel took the offering and used it to wipe down the refrigerator more while she worked on the rest of the kitchen.</p><p>Since joining the team, Daniel had observed that Agent May was quick and efficient in everything she did. Barring the short disorienting moments he’d witnessed when they’d first been introduced, she had been consistently competent and exacting. Daniel had learned later that the initial strange behavior from the woman was not the norm and was only due to her recent acquisition of a superpower.</p><p>Daniel snuck a glance at the older woman while they stocked the shelves with canned goods and the refrigerator with perishables. There were a lot of things he was curious about but he was unsure exactly how to broach the conversation.</p><p>“Whatever you want to say, just say it.” </p><p>May’s voice cut through the silence and he jumped a little. His eyes widened and he spluttered out, “W- what?”</p><p>“I can feel your need to talk from here.”</p><p>He pursed his lips at the idea of her feeling his emotions. That was actually one of the things he was curious about.</p><p>“How did you get your superpowers,” he finally asked. “Daisy only told me that they were new.”</p><p>May shrugged and put away a large can of refried beans. “I died.”</p><p>A can of corn slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He let it roll away from him, too busy staring at Agent May to stop it.</p><p>“You <em> what </em>?”</p><p>May let out an exasperated sigh and hunted down the stray can. As she returned to the cabinets she elaborated.</p><p>“I was killed a few weeks ago just before we first time traveled. I was stabbed in the gut and thrown into another dimension where I died but didn’t die at the same time. When I came back, we’d already traveled to the 1930s, Simmons and Enoch had healed me, but I didn’t have the ability to feel my own emotions anymore. Only other people’s emotions. You’re actually the reason we figured out what was wrong with me.”</p><p>Daniel was confused. “Me? What did I do?”</p><p>“The first day we met, I shook your hand. You kept a good mask on but the moment I touched you I could feel your fear, distrust...confusion. I lost myself in what you were feeling. Yo-Yo realized that I was leeching off of your emotions but by then you’d run away.”</p><p>He got control of his expression and went back to helping her empty the cart. His cheeks reddened a little when remembering his dramatic exit from the Zephyr back when he’d first been brought on board. It had been reasonable at the time but now it felt a little embarrassing.</p><p>“Don’t be embarrassed. It was a situation none of us anticipated,” she chimed in.</p><p>Daniel shook his head. “That is an unsettling ability.”</p><p>May snorted. “Yea, no kidding.”</p><p>They worked in silence for a while longer until everything was packed away. There were some empty boxes left over that they then proceeded to tear and fold for the trash. </p><p>They’d moved on to pulling dishes from the cabinets to clean the dust from them when another question occurred to him. </p><p>“Why did you hate the 80s?”</p><p>May was silent for a while then she started washing the bowel in her hand. “My parents got divorced later this year.”</p><p>“Oh…”</p><p>“I was just finishing high school in Detroit and it was a year after the murder of Vincent Chin.”</p><p>“Vincent Chin?” he asked and stepped up next to her to dry and stack what she was washing.</p><p>“A Chinese-American man who was murdered by two white men in ‘82. Tensions were extremely high in our communities after the killers were let off for the murder with little to no real punishment.”</p><p>Daniel’s heart plummeted. He wasn’t exactly surprised. That kind of injustice was common in his time. He’d just hoped it had improved thirty years later. First Hydra was still going strong and now this...it seemed Daisy was right: the world was doomed to keep making the same mistakes.</p><p>“My mother worked for the C.I.A. at the time and she’d grown more protective by the day. We’d been forced to move three times due to her job and the events in Michigan only made it worse. Eventually, my parents decided to split. I went with my father to Arizona then to college there and my mother moved to Virginia for work.”</p><p>Agent May spoke without much emotion in her voice. She was calm and open even as she spoke about something obviously very painful for her. He was honestly surprised she’d told him as much as she had.</p><p>“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she echoed.</p><p>They both froze and Daniel turned to look at her. May was frowning and her brows were furrowed as she examined him. Her eyes suddenly snapped close and she looked as if she were concentrating. Her head shook hard and she let out a breath before stepping back.</p><p>“Sorry,” she snapped. “I was looping off of your curiosity.” </p><p>“You were what?”</p><p>May breathed in deeply and then slowly let out the air. He didn’t know exactly what she was doing but it seemed to be helping her. He, on the other hand, was still lost.</p><p>“You’re very strong willed, Agent Sousa,” she said wonderingly instead of answering. “I wasn’t blocking as much as I should have with you.”</p><p>Clearly Daisy got her enigmatic nature from her mentor. Nothing May had just said made any real sense but he could tell from her closed off face that their little sharing session was over. May and Daisy really were alike.</p><p>“I’ll finish here,” she said. “Go ahead and find Daisy.”</p><p>Daniel cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Sorry?”</p><p>May was smirking now but she said nothing else as she turned back to the sink and continued cleaning, a clear dismissal etched across her shoulders.</p><p>He took a step away and realized the older agent was right. After the talk of mothers and being reminded of the shadows of May he could see in Daisy, he was wondering about her again. How she was doing, where she was, how she felt to have her own mother on the base so close yet not really hers. He wanted to see her.</p><p>Daniel gave one last glance at May then left the room, intent on finding Daisy after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AoS gave me a new Daisy ship in the final season. I can't believe in the year of our Lord 2020 I'd be shipping Daisy/Sousa but here I am. And if I'm already writing fic for it, I'm in too deep. </p><p>I've made this a oneshot, pre-relationship thing. I may turn it into a series with a few more coda-style entries as the episodes go on. I haven't decided yet.</p><p>7/5/20 Edit- I've decided to continue this story as coda style vignettes. IDK how long I'll keep going but they'll likely have some canon divergence just because the show might swerve left when I'm expecting them to go right. </p><p>Because of this, I've also decided to raise the rating to T so I can discuss the darker aspects of this show.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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